KANT  AND  SPENCER 


BORDEN    PARKER   BOW NE 


SSorUen  J), 


KANT  AND    SPENCER:  A  Critical  Exposition. 

THE    ESSENCE   OF   RELIGION. 

STUDIES    IN    CHRISTIANITY. 

PERSONALISM. 

THE    IMMANENCE   OF  GOD. 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 


KANT  AND  SPENCER 

A  CRITICAL  EXPOSITION 


KANT  AND  SPENCER 

A  CRITICAL  EXPOSITION 


BY 

BORDEN  PARKER  BOWNE 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

CtorsiDe  ptc^  Cambridge 
1912 


COPYRIGHT,   IQIZ,   BY  KATE  M.   BOWNE 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

Published  April  IQIZ 


Bzjs 

By 


• 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE 

THIS  work  does  not  aim  to  be  an  exhaustive  treatise 
on  Kant  and  Spencer,  but  rather  a  critical  exposition 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  author's  own  system  of 
philosophy. 

It  is  based  upon  lectures  given  during  many  years 
by  Professor  Bowne  to  his  students,  and  is  published 
as  left  by  him  at  the  time  of  his  death.  It  is  a  first 
dictation  of  the  matter  to  his  stenographer,  and  had 
not  received  its  final  polish  from  the  author's  hand. 
His  previous  philosophical  works  were  written  en- 
tirely with  his  own  pen.  Had  this  been  the  case  with 
Kant  and  Spencer,  no  such  errors  would  have  crept 
in  as  have  naturally  occurred  in  transcribing  the 
stenographer's  notes.  It  is  believed,  however,  that 
all  these  errors  have  been  eliminated  by  the  studious 
care  of  friends  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  author's 
thought,  —  the  corrections  in  every  case  being  en- 
closed within  brackets. 

April  1,  1912. 


242214 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 
THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

INTRODUCTION       3 

Aim  of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  p.  3.  —  The  two  editions  and 
their  relation  to  each  other,  p.  5.  —  State  of  philosophy  in 
Kant's  time,  p.  7. 

CHAPTER  I 

KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 9 

View  held  by  the  earlier  empiricists,  p.  9.  —  Constitutive  activ- 
ity of  the  mind,  p.  10.  —  The  two  distinct  questions  involved 
in  the  debate  between  empiricism  and  rationalism,  p.  17.  — 
Subjective  and  objective  conditions  of  knowledge,  p.  18.  — 
Kant's  approach  to  the  problem,  p.  24.  —  A  priori  and  empiri- 
cal elements  in  knowledge,  p.  25.  —  Distinction  between 
analytical  and  synthetic  judgments,  p.  26.  —  Existence  of  a 
priori  syntheses,  p.  28.  —  Kant's  psychology,  p.  31.  —  His 
doctrine  of  space,  p.  34.  —  Transcendental  exposition  of  the 
idea  of  space  in  the  second  edition,  p.  40.  —  Relation  of  the  a 
priori  conception  of  space  to  mathematics,  p.  42.  —  Kant's 
doctrine  of  time,  p.  46.  —  Distinction  between  a  space  and 
time  world  and  the  world  of  the  understanding,  p.  50. 

CHAPTER  H 
TRANSCENDENTAL  LOGIC 52 

General  logic  and  transcendental  logic,  p.  53.  —  Transcendental 
Analytic,  p.  55.  —  Table  of  Judgments,  p.  56.  —  Metaphysical 
deduction  of  the  categories,  p.  57.  —  Relation  of  real  categories 
to  the  table  of  judgments,  p.  61.  —  Transcendental  deduction 
of  categories,  p.  63.  —  The  understanding  in  its  relation  to 
sensations  and  to  the  objectivity  of  phenomena,  p.  65. 

vii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  III 

TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION  OF  THE  CATEGORIES  ....  67 
Synthesis  of  apprehension  in  intuition,  p.  68.  —  Synthesis  of 
reproduction  in  imagination,  p.  69.  —  Synthesis  of  recognition 
in  concepts,  p.  70.  —  The  reproductive  imagination,  p.  73.  — 
Transcendental  unity  of  apperception,  p.  74.  —  What  Kant 
really  does  in  the  transcendental  deduction,  p.  76.  —  His  doc- 
trine that  the  mind  makes  nature,  p.  77.  —  Analytic  of  Prin- 
ciples, p.  81. — Schematism  of  the  pure  concepts  of  the  under- 
standing, p.  82.  —  The  categories  simply  abstractions  from 
self-conscious  life,  p.  85. 

CHAPTER  IV 

THE  SYSTEM  OF  ALL  PRINCIPLES  OF  THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING  87 
Axioms  of  intuition,  p.  88.  —  Anticipations  of  perception,  p.  89. 
—  Analogies  of  'experience,  p.  89.  —  Principle  of  permanence, 
p.  90.  —  Principle  of  production  or  causality,  p.  92.  —  Princi- 
ple of  community  or  interaction  of  substances,  p.  98.  —  Kant's 
attempt  to  explain  the  possibility  of  science,  p.  102.  —  Postu- 
lates of  empirical  thought  in  generator  concepts  of  possibility, 
reality,  and  necessity,  p.  103. — Kant's  refutation  of  idealism, 
p.  106. 

CHAPTER  V 

PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 109 

Meaning  of  phenomenon,  p.  109.  —  Phenomena  not  masks  of 
reality,  p.  112.  —  The  causal  relation  not  sensuously  percept- 
ible, p.  113.  —  Objectivity  of  knowledge,  p.  114.  —  Subjectiv- 
ity of  space,  p.  117.  —  Space  a  form  of  experience,  p.  119.  — 
Space  not  an  ontological  fact,  p.  120.  —  Double  meaning  of 
subjectivity,  p.  121.  —  Empirical  reality  of  space,  p.  123.  — 
Confusion  in  Kant's  doctrine  of  phenomena  and  noumena, 
p.  125.  —  True  relation  of  the  phenomenal  and  ontological, 
p.  131.  —  Origin  of  Kant's  strange  doctrine,  p.  133.  —  Self- 
destructive  character  of  the  doctrine  that  denies  the  applica- 
bility of  the  categories  to  reality,  p.  136.  —  Experience  as  the  ' 
field  of  the  application  of  the  categories,  p.  139.  —  Relativity 
of  the  categories,  p.  143.  —  Possibility  that  there  may  be  dif- 
ferent systems  of  reality  for  different  beings,  p.  145.  —  Notion 
of  an  absolute  static  system  baseless,  p.  146.  —  The  way  out  of 

viii 


CONTENTS 

the  Kantian  agnosticism^  p.  148.  —  Kant's  argument  for  the 
subjectivity  of  time,  p.  151.  —  Relation  of  time  to  change,  p. 
155.  —  Spatial  and  temporal  experience  relative  to  our  human 
limitations,  p.  156. 

CHAPTER  VI 
THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC       161 

Kant's  deduction  of  the  ideas  of  reason,  p.  161.  —  The  three 
classes  of  transcendental  ideas,  p.  162.  —  Kant's  criticism  of 
rational  psychology,  p.  163.  —  His  argument  against  the  sub- 
stantiality of  the  soul,  p.  165.  —  His  argument  against  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  self,  p.  170.  —  His  refutation  of  Mendelssohn's 
proof  of  the  permanence  of  the  soul,  p.  172.  —  Bearing  of  the 
Kantian  criticism  upon  life  and  belief,  p.  174. 

CHAPTER  VH 

THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON      17P 

The  four  contradictions  into  which  reason  falls  in  the  field  of 
cosmology,  p.  178.  —  Both  proof  and  disproof  in  the  first  an- 
tinomy unsatisfactory,  p.  180.  —  The  second  antinomy,  p.  184. 
—  Kant's  argument  against  freedom  arbitrary  and  fictitious, 
p.  190.  —  Causality  misunderstood,  p.  193.  —  Solution  of  the 
supposed  antinomy  between  freedom  and  necessity,  p.  196.  — 
The  fourth  antinomy,  p.  199.  —  Kant's  arguments  for  and 
against  an  absolutely  necessary  Being  very  unsatisfactory,  p. 
200.  —  Solution  of  the  fourth  antinomy,  p.  204.  —  The  Ideal 
of  the  Pure  Reason,  p.  207.  —  Demonstration  of  the  divine 
existence  impossible,  p.  208.  —  The  ontological  argument,  p. 
209.  —  The  cosmological  and  design  arguments,  p.  211. — 
The  practical  basis  of  belief,  p.  212. 

PART  II 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

INTRODUCTION       217 

Reasons  for  the  popularity  of  Spencer's  philosophy,  p.  217.  - 
Aim  of  the  present  discussion,  p.  220.  —  Spencer's  chief 
works,  p.  221. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 
MR.  SPENCER'S  AGNOSTICISM 223 

Sources  of  Spencer's  agnosticism,  p.  223.  —  Brief  outline  of  his 
argument,  p.  224.  —  Ultimate  Religious  Ideas,  p.  225.  — 
Atheism,  Pantheism,  and  Theism,  p.  226.  —  Lack  of  precision 
in  Spencer's  use  of  the  terms,  "unknowable,"  "inconceivable" 
and  "unthinkable,"  p.  228.  —  His  argument  against  all  ideas 
of  the  origin  of  things,  p.  231.  —  Contradictory  elements  in  our 
conception  of  the  nature  of  the  universe,  p.  235.  —  Mansel's 
argument,  p.  236.  —  Ultimate  Scientific  Ideas,  p.  238.  —  No- 
tion of  consciousness  declared  to  be  unthinkable,  p.  239.  — 
Alleged  contradiction  in  notion  of  self-consciousness,  p.  240. 

—  Relativity  of  all  Knowledge,  p.  242.  —  Meaning  of  this 
doctrine,  p.  242.  —  Reasons  for  regarding  the  Absolute  as  un- 
knowable, p.  243.  —  Spencer's  doctrine  of  an  indefinite  con- 
sciousness of  the  Absolute,  p.  248.  —  His  affirmations  concern- 
ing the  Unknowable,  p.  251.  —  Emptiness  of  every  doctrine  of 
the  Unknowable,  p.  253.  —  Unclear  and  contradictory  ele- 
ments in  Spencer's  doctrine  of  the  Unknowable,  p.  256.  — 
Doctrine  of  Religion,  p.  260.  —  How  we  are  to  think  of  God, 
p.  260.  —  Worthlessness  of  a  religion  of  mere  mystery,  p.  263. 

—  Spencer's  native  lack  of  religious  interest,  p.  265.  —  His 
changed  attitude  toward  religion  later  in  life,  p.  266.  —  The 
advanced  thinker  and  the  Unknown  Cause,  p.  270.  —  Rela- 
tion of  Part  I  to  Part  II,  p.  272. 


CHAPTER  II 

MR.  SPENCER'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SCIENCE 275 

Bearing  of  Spencer's  agnostic  argument  on  the  possibility  of 
science,  p.  275.  —  Restoration  of  space,  time,  matter,  motion, 
and  force  as  relative  realities,  p.  277.  —  Nature  of  these  rela- 
tive realities,  p.  279.  —  Modes  of  the  Unknowable,  p.  282.  — 
Double  difficulty  in  Spencer's  conception  of  relative  realities, 
p.  284.  —  Indestructibility  of  Matter,  p.  286.  —  Basis  of  this 
doctrine,  p.  286.  —  Relation  of  matter  and  motion  to  the  fun- 
damental reality,  p.  289.  —  Persistence  of  force,  p.  291.  — 
Scientific  value  of  this  doctrine,  p.  293.  —  Transformation  and 
equivalence  of  forces,  p.  296. — Bearing  of  this  principle  on  the 


CONTENTS 

conception  of  life  and  of  mental  and  social  forces,  p.  299.  — 
Relation  of  the  conservation  of  energy  to  the  permanence  of  the 
physical  system,  p.  305.  —  Uniformity  of  law,  p.  307.  —  Di- 
rection of  motion,  p.  308.  —  The  line  of  least  resistance  in  the 
organic,  mental,  and  social  worlds,  p.  310.  —  Spencer's  aim, 
p.  315.  —  Explanation  by  classification,  p.  317. 


CHAPTER  m 
THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION       320 

Definition  of  evolution,  p.  320.  —  Its  meaning,  p.  321.  —  The 
formula  only  a  description,  p.  324.  —  Instability  of  the  homo- 
geneous, p.  324.  —  Modification  of  the  definition  of  evolution 
in  the  last  edition  of  First  Principles,  p.  327.  —  Multiplication 
of  effects,  and  segregation,  p.  328.  —  Question  of  order  or  di- 
rection, p.  329.  —  Fallacy  of  the  universal  in  Spencer's  doc- 
trine of  evolution,  p.  331.  —  The  charge  of  materialism  made 
against  him,  p.  334.  —  Truth  and  error  in  this  charge,  p.  335. 

CHAPTER  IV 
DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 340 

Meaning  of  matter  and  motion,  p.  340.  —  Spencer's  deduction 
of  the  organic  from  the  inorganic,  p.  342.  —  No  real  distinc- 
tion between  a  "complex"  molecule  and  an  "organic"  mole- 
cule, p.  345.  —  Life  deducible  from  the  inorganic  only  by  the 
illicit  introduction  of  biological  terms,  p.  347.  —  Impossibility 
of  interpreting  mental  facts  in  terms  of  matter  and  motion,  p. 
351.  —  Spencer's  definition  of  life  and  mind  as  an  adjustment 
of  inner  to  outer  relations,  p.  353.  —  Psycho-Physical  Parallel- 
ism, p.  358.  —  Notion  of  a  double-faced  substance,  p.  359.  — 
Application  of  this  notion  to  psychology,  p.  363.  —  Essential 
materialism  of  Spencer's  view,  p.  366.  —  Huxley's  view  of  the 
relation  of  the  physical  to  the  mental  series,  p.  368.  —  Uncer- 
tainty in  Spencer's  view,  p.  369.  —  The  associational  psy- 
chology, p.  372.  —  Spencer's  argument  for  a  primordial  men- 
tal unit,  p.  374.  —  His  view  of  the  composition  of  mind,  p.  376. 
—  His  conception  of  the  self,  p.  379.  —  His  explanation  of 
association,  p.  380.  —  His  physiological  account  of  memory, 
p.  382. 

xi 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  V 

SPENCER'S  EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 388 

Two  points  of  difference  between  the  empiricist  and  the  rational 
psychologist,  p.  388.  —  General  aim  of  empiricism,  p.  390.  — 
Mill's  deduction  of  the  idea  of  space,  p.  392.  —  Spencer's 
deduction  of  it,  p.  396.  —  Idea  of  space  not  deducible  from, 
nor  identifiable  with,  spaceless  elements,  p.  404.  —  Spencer's 
latest  utterance  on  the  subject  of  space,  p.  405.  —  The  attempt 
to  deduce  belief  and  conviction  from  habit,  p.  409.  —  Empiri- 
cism and  race  experience,  p.  411.  —  Ambiguity  of  the  word 
"sensation,"  p.  414.  —  Spencer's  Skepticism,  p.  417.  —  Rela- 
tion of  empiricism  anoT  materialism  to  each  other,  p.  417.  — 
Generation  of  the  uniformities  of  thought  by  the  uniformities 
of  things,  p.  419.  —  Spencer's  proof  of  realism,  p.  420.  —  His 
mistaken  conception  of  idealism,  p.  422.  —  Transfigured  real- 
ism, p.  424.  —  Recall  of  the  self  in  order  to  escape  nihilism, 
p.  427.  —  Bearing  of  Spencer's  doctrine  of  vivid  and  faint 
states  of  consciousness  upon  the  problem  of  knowledge,  p.  429. 
—  The  actual  object  in  perception  subjective  in  Spencer's 
scheme,  p.  433.  —  Fundamental  defects  in  his  theory  of 
knowledge,  p.  435.  —  Estimate  of  his  system  as  a  whole, 
p.  439. 


PART  I 

THE   PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF 
KANT 

INTRODUCTION 

KANT'S  great  work  is  his  "Critique  of  Pure  Rea- 
son." The  title  itself  suggests  something  of  the  gen- 
eral thought.  It  is  to  discover  the  scope  and  limit- 
ations of  the  rational  power  itself.  This  undertaking 
was  made  necessary  by  the  contradictions  into  which 
reason  had  fallen.  In  this  aim  Kant's  work  is  similar 
to  that  of  Locke  in  his  "Essay  on  the  Human  Under- 
standing." Locke  says,  "If  by  this  inquiry  into  the 
nature  of  the  understanding  I  can  discover  the  powers 
thereof,  how  far  they  reach,  to  what  things  they  are 
in  any  degree  proportionate,  and  where  they  avail  us, 
I  suppose  it  may  be  of  use  to  prevail  with  the  busy 
mind  of  man  to  be  more  cautious  in  meddling  with 
things  exceeding  its  comprehension;  to  stop  when  it  is 
at  the  utmost  extent  of  its  tether;  and  to  sit  in  a  quiet 
ignorance  of  those  things  which  upon  examination 
are  found  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  our  capacities." 
Kant's  aim  was  similar.  Reason  he  conceived  had 
transcended  its  own  sphere,  which  was  the  source  not 
only  of  speculative  error,  but  also  of  practical  con- 
fusion and  mischief.  To  remedy  this  condition  of 
things  he  wrote  the  "  Critique  of  Pure  Reason." 

Kant's  underlying  interest  in  this  matter  would 

3 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

seem  to  have  been  originally  ethical.  He  found  that 
the  confused  philosophies  of  his  time  were  such  as  to 

,  throw  great  doubt  upon  both  moral  and  religious 
faith,  and  Kant  regarded  the  belief  in  God,  freedom, 
and  immortality  as  things  of  supreme  importance  for 
our  human  life.  But  he  saw  these  truths  brought  into 
discredit  through  speculative  aberration.  He  set  him- 
self, therefore,  to  determine  more  carefully  the  real 
scope  of  reason  in  such  matters,  and  reached  the  con- 
clusion that  reason  itself  is  a  limited  faculty,  and  by 
means  of  it  we  cannot  attain  to  a  demonstration  of 
these  ideas  upon  which  life  is  based.  But  though  a 
limited  faculty  it  is  not  a  deceitful  one  when  critically 
used.  The  outcome  of  this  critical  inquiry,  in  his  own 

v  words,  is  to  destroy  knowledge  and  make  room  for 
belief.  By  means  of  mere  reflection  Kant  says  we  can 
never  produce  any  conviction,  and  the  practical  beliefs 
of  men  have  always  been  reached  in  some  other  way. 
The  great  source  of  difficulty  has  been  the  mistaken 
notion  that  reason  can  avail  to  overturn  these  things, 
and  hence  the  objections  brought  by  dogmatism  have 
often  availed  to  shake  the  people's  faith.  If  now  it 
could  be  shown  that  these  objections  are  themselves 
baseless,  then  we  should  be  left  free  to  follow  our 
higher  spiritual  instincts  and  to  fall  back  on  the 
practical  implications  of  life  without  being  molested 
or  disturbed  in  any  way  by  the  objections  of  skepti- 
cism. This,  in  a  word,  was  Kant's  most  general  pur- 
pose, to  criticize  reason,  to  determine  its  limitations, 
and  to  show  that  beyond  the  range  of  the  speculative 
faculty  lies  the  field  of  practical  life  where,  while  we 
cannot  demonstrate,  we  may  yet  believe. 

4 


INTRODUCTION 

It  is  this  characteristic  of  Kant's  philosophy  which 
entitles  it  to  be  called  the  Critical  Philosophy,  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  philosophy  of  the  preceding  period, 
which  Kant  described  as  empirical  on  the  one  hand  or 
dogmatic  on  the  other. 

The  first  edition  of  Kant's  work  appeared  in  1781. 
In  1783  he  wrote  a  work  entitled  "Prolegomena  to 
Every  Future  System  of  Metaphysics."  This  was  a 
kind  of  brief  exposition  of  the  "Critique, "and  puts 
many  of  the  leading  doctrines  in  a  more  concise  and 
clear  form.  In  1787  a  second  edition  of  the  "Critique" 
was  produced,  which  contained  many  changes  from 
the  first  edition.  Concerning  the  relative  merits  of 
these  two  editions  there  has  been  a  great  deal  of  de- 
bate among  Kantian  scholars.  Some  hold  that  the 
first  edition  was  the  more  consistent  work,  and  that 
the  second  edition  is  weak  and  shows  undue  conces- 
sions to  popular  philosophical  and  theological  preju- 
dices. In  particular  the  second  edition  contained  a 
"Refutation  of  Idealism,"  and  some  philosophers 
looked  upon  this  as  a  grave  inconsistency.  The  edi- 
tion also  showed,  it  was  said,  something  of  a  desire  to 
placate  orthodox  believers  of  all  sorts,  and  this  was 
thought  by  many  to  show  a  lack  of  courage.  Schopen- 
hauer in  particular  was  very  bitter  against  Kant  on 
this  account.  To  us  who  stand  far  removed  from  the 
original  controversy  there  seems  to  be  no  justification 
for  this  charge  of  inconsistency,  and  no  more  for  the 
charge  of  cowardice.  Kant  was  only  sixty  years  old 
when  the  second  edition  was  produced,  and  he  would 
not  seem  to  have  been  a  man  who  would  needlessly 
surrender.  It  was  at  a  much  later  period  that  Kant 

5 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

was  silenced  by  the  Minister  of  Education,  but  that 
was  in  connection  with  his  work  "Religion  within 
the  Limits  of  the  Pure  Reason,"  and  then  Kant's 
silence  involved  no  recantation,  but  as  a  loyal  subject 
he  ceased  to  lecture  on  the  forbidden  topic. 

And  as  to  the  philosophical  inconsistency  there 
seems  to  be  no  good  ground  for  it.  Kant  was  incon- 
sistent in  the  first  edition  as  well  as  in  the  second,  and 
if  the  inconsistency  is  a  little  more  prominent  in  the 
later  edition,  it  is  no  more  real;  for  Kant's  system 
cannot  be  made  consistent  except  by  going  beyond 
it.  And  we  may  even  say  that  Kant's  inconsistency 
in  this  matter  was  one  proof  of  his  greatness.  Kant 
struck  out  a  new  path  and  did  not  succeed  in  making 
a  perfectly  consistent  system.  He  held  a  number  of 
views  which  in  the  form  he  gave  them  did  not  admit 
of  being  made  consistent,  yet  all  of  which  really  had 
to  be  taken  into  account.  Hence,  we  repeat,  while 
Kant  did  not  succeed  in  removing  all  the  inconsist- 
encies of  his  system,  his  work  was  all  the  greater  for 
not  making  the  system  consistent  by  eliminating  some 
factors  which  had  to  be  retained.  Since  the  second 
edition  no  important  changes  have  been  made  in  the 
text.  Only  minor  emendations  and  the  kind  of  things 
that  small  critics  delight  in  have  been  produced.  The 
great  edition  which  the  Royal  Academy  of  Science  in 
Berlin  is  bringing  out  follows  the  text  of  the  second 
edition,  and  gives  the  variations  of  the  first  edition  in 
the  appendix.  Hartenstein's  edition,  which  for  a  long 
time  was  the  standard  one,  follows  also  the  text  of 
the  second  edition. 

Of  translations  there  are  two  in  English  of  merit, 

6 


INTRODUCTION 

that  by  Max  Miiller  and  that  by  Meiklejohn.  Miil- 
ler's  translation  follows  jthe  text  of  the  first  edition, 
but  brackets  those  parts  in  it  which  were  left  out  in 
the  second  edition,  and  then  in  a  series  of  appendices 
gives  the  additions  made  in  the  second  edition. 
Meiklejohn  follows  the  text  of  the  second  edition. 
Our  quotations  are  from  Miiller's  translation. 

We  now  proceed  to  study  the  work  itself  as  set 
forth  in  the  "Critique "and  the  "Prolegomena." 

Philosophy  had  reached  a  crisis  in  Kant's  time. 
The  empiricism  of  Locke  had  ended  in  Hume's  ni- 
hilism. Locke  had  based  philosophy  on  experience, 
and  Hume  had  shown  that  experience  itself  when  the 
mind  is  purely  passive  becomes  only  a  vanishing  phan- 
tasmagoria, which  makes  all  knowledge  impossible. 
In  France  the  empirical  doctrine,  in  the  hands  of 
Condillac,  had  passed  into  a  set  of  vague  and  super- 
ficial generalizations  distinguishing  nothing,  leading 
to  nothing,  and  even  meaning  nothing.  Empiricism 
in  ethics  had  also  led  to  a  general  low  moral  tone 
which  was  unfavorable  to  high  spiritual  living  of  any 
kind.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the  rational  school  of 
Descartes,  Spinoza,  Leibnitz,  had  passed  into  the 
barren  formalism  of  the  Wolfian  philosophy,  which 
was  scarcely  more  valuable  than  the  platitudes  of  the 
sensational  school.  In  this  condition  of  things  either 
philosophy  had  to  be  abandoned  or  else  a  new  begin- 
ning had  to  be  made  and  some  new  method  initiated. 
This  is  the  work  that  Kant  did. 

Kant  says  that  Hume  first  woke  him  from  his  dog- 
matic slumber.  He  had  apparently  been  teaching  the 
traditional  Leibnitzo-Wolfiaa  philosophy,  but  when 

7 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

he  came  into  contact  with  Hume's  dissolving  criti- 
cism he  began  to  see  that  the  foundations  were  falling 
away,  and  to  meet  this  crisis  he  made  a  new  exam- 
ination of  reason  itself,  with  the  aim  of  once  more 
establishing  philosophy  on  a  solid  basis. 

In  this  work  Kant  appeared  as  a  reconciler  of  the 
two  previous  directions  in  philosophy.  On  the  one 
hand,  the  empirical  school  had  claimed  that  all  know- 
ledge is  from  experience.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the 
rational  school  had  maintained  that  there  are  sundry 
rational  principles  immanent  in  the  mind.  Kant 
claimed  to  show  that  both  schools  were  right.  On  the 
one  hand,  there  can  be  no  experience,  he  said,  without 
rational  principles,  as  Hume  had  clearly  shown.  Thus 
the  rational  school  was  justified.  But  on  the  other 
hand,  these  rational  principles  have  application  only 
to  experience.  When  extended  beyond  the  field  of 
experience  they  become  the  parent  of  multitudinous 
illusions.  Thus  the  empirical  school  is  justified,  and 
thus  criticism  appears  as  containing  the  truth  in 
both  empiricism  and  rationalism,  while  at  the  same 
time  showing  their  limited  and  partial  nature.  This 
view  might  be  called  transcendental  empiricism.  It 
is  transcendental  as  going  beyond  the  empiricism  of 
sense  impressions,  but  it  is  empiricism  as  limiting 
knowledge  to  the  field  of  experience.  The  true  view 
then  is  neither  empiricism  nor  rationalism  of  the 
old  type,  but  criticism  which  unites  and  reconciles 
them. 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OP  EXPERIENCE 

KANT  does  not  formally  discuss  this  topic,  and  yet 
practically  his  doctrine  of  experience  is  his  great 
contribution  to  philosophy.  For  the  understanding 
of  his  system,  therefore,  we  shall  do  well  to  consider 
what  that  doctrine  is. 

According  to  the  earlier  empiricists  the  mind  is 
purely  passive  in  experience.  It  was  a  waxen  tablet 
or  a  tabula  rasa  upon  which  impressions  were  made. 
The  mind,  then,  was  simply  a  recipient  and  contrib- 
uted nothing.  It  received  impressions  and  preserved 
them,  and  all  that  could  be  later  done  was  simply  to 
read  off  the  impressions  in  their  due  order  and  con- 
nection. When  this  view  was  taken  at  all  seriously 
it  was  seen  to  lead  at  once  to  the  overthrow  of  all 
reason.  Hume  took  it  seriously  and  held  that  the 
original  material  of  all  knowledge  consists  of  impres- 
sions of  which  later  copies  may  exist  in  consciousness. 
The  impressions  contain  all  the  reality  we  have,  and 
all  other  ideas  so  far  as  valid  are  simply  faint  copies 
of  the  impressions,  which  are  relatively  vivid.  This 
certainly  led  to  a  short  and  easy  way  of  dealing  with 
our  ideas  or  beliefs.  We  had  only  to  ask  concerning 
any  idea  for  the  impression  of  which  it  was  a  copy, 
and  if  no  impression  could  be  shown  we  must  con- 
clude that  the  idea  was  a  fiction.  This  at  once  would 
limit  the  mind  to  impressions  of  sense  and  feeling, 

9 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

and  anything  which  could  not  be  thus  sensuously 
or  sensibly  presented  must  be  set  aside  as  baseless. 
Elementary  ideas,  then,  of  substance,  unity,  identity, 
causality,  and  also  the  higher  ideas  of  spirit,  morality, 
God,  religion,  etc.,  immediately  appear  as  fictions. 
If  we  said,  But  they  nevertheless  exist  as  ideas, 
Hume's  reply  was  that  they  were  due  to  a  "mental 
propensity  to  feign";  for  by  the  very  terms  of  the 
philosophy  vivid  impressions  are  the  only  reality, 
and  faint  impressions  are  either  the  copies  of  the 
vivid  impressions  or  else  pure  illusions.  But  on  this 
view  no  rational  experience  whatever  was  possible. 
Nothing  was  left  but  a  set  of  dissolving  impressions, 
no  one  of  which  had  any  identity  or  abiding  char- 
acter in  itself  or  connection  with  any  other,  and  all 
of  which  vanished  with  their  date,  leaving  nothing 
behind.  The  result  was  nihilism.  Experience  itself 
was  impossible. 

This  shows  the  significance  of  the  question,  How  is 
experience  possible?  On  the  purely  empirical  view, 
when  taken  literally  and  with  any  precision,  experi- 
ence is  not  possible.  But  then  as  a  matter  of  fact  we 
do  have  something  we  call  experience,  on  which  life 
depends  and  where  we  meet  in  mutual  understanding. 
Now,  how  is  this  experience  possible? 

The  answer  to  this  is,  It  is  possible  only  through 
an  activity  of  the  mind  itself  in  accordance  with 
certain  principles  immanent  in  the  mind,  according 
to  which  it  organizes  the  impressions  of  sense  into 
the  connected  forms  of  the  understanding,  and  thus 
only  reaches  an  articulate  and  connected  system  of 
experience.  And  this  is  admitted  in  a  kind  of  left- 

10 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

handed  way  by  Hume  himself,  for  his  own  doctrine 
leaves  us  in  this  vanishing  flux  of  impressions,  but 
recognizes  a  "mental  propensity  to  feign"  as  the 
source  of  certain  ideas  which  we  call  rational,  but  he 
calls  baseless  because  of  his  philosophical  position. 
If  we  ask,  how  on  the  Humian  view  experience  is  or- 
ganized and  made  articulate,  it  turns  out  to  be  due 
solely  to  those  ideas  which  he  sought  to  explain  away 
and  which  he  stigmatized  as  products  of  a  propensity 
to  feign.  We  shall  see  that  they  are  really  expressions 
of  the  rational  nature  itself. 

A  general  conviction  of  superficial  thought  has 
been  that  knowledge  is  something  that  can  be  im- 
ported readymade  from  without,  by  impressions  on 
the  passive  mind.  The  process  seemingly  admits  of 
being  pictured  by  terms  like  impression,  photograph, 
and  so  on,  but  as  soon  as  we  look  into  the  matter 
with  any  precision  we  find  how  empty  all  of  this  is. 
And,  first  of  all,  let  us  consider  the  simple  impression 
itself.  We  shall  see  that  it  is  not  an  object  of  articu- 
late apprehension  until  it  has  been  made  over  by  the 
mind  into  its  own  rational  forms.  Let  us  take,  say,  a 
heat  sensation.  As  occurring,  this  sensation  has  no 
unity  and  no  identity  of  any  kind.  In  order  to  become 
anything  whatever  articulate,  the  heat  sensation 
must  be  transformed  into  a  sensation  of  heat,  which 
is  something  very  different.  Of  course  this  impresses 
common  sense  as  an  unreal  refinement,  but  a  mo- 
ment's reflection  will  show  its  validity.  For  let  us 
suppose  this  impression  to  last  through  a  minute  of 
time.  It  is  plain  that  the  first  second  of  that  minute 
is  not  the  same  as  the  last  second,  and  it  is  equally 

11 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

plain  that  the  impression  occurring  in  the  first  second 
is  not  the  impression  occurring  in  the  last  second, 
and  because  of  the  infinite  divisibility  of  time  the 
impression  as  occurring  has  no  unity  and  no  identity 
whatever.  Each  increment  of  the  impression  goes 
away  with  its  date  and  leaves  nothing  behind  it,  and 
each  succeeding  increment  knows  nothing  of  that 
which  went  before  nor  of  that  which  comes  afterward. 
We  have,  then,  indefinite  otherness  without  identity 
of  any  kind.  And  plainly  the  only  way  out  of  this  is 
that  there  shall  be  some  rational  power  that  shall 
react  upon  this  impression,  so  that  instead  of  being  a 
flux  of  affections  it  shall  be  gathered  up  into  one  idea, 
an  impression  of  heat.  When  this  is  done  we  then 
have  a  single  and  fixed  idea,  of  which  the  successively 
occurring  impression  is  the  bearer  and  which  in  turn 
expresses  the  significance  of  the  impression  itself. 
Thus  in  transforming  the  heat  impression  into  an 
impression  of  heat  we  have  gone  beyond  the  mere 
affection  of  the  sensibility  to  the  plane  of  a  univers* 
alizing  intelligence,  and  that  even  in  this  simplest 
possible  sense  experience. 

The  units  of  sensation  themselves,  then,  by  the 
time  they  are  anything  articulate  show  an  activity 
of  the  understanding  upon  them  whereby  they  are 
made  possible  elements  in  a  rational  experience,  and 
this  same  fact  appears  all  the  more  plainly  in  the 
so-called  recurrence  of  sensations.  It  seems  very 
possible  to  common  sense  that  sensations  can  recur 
again  and  again.  But  this,  too,  is  possible  only  to  a 
universalizing  intelligence.  For  any  impression  what- 
ever as  recurring  goes  away  with  its  date  and  can  no 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

more  be  recalled  than  the  date  itself.  When,  then-J 
we  speak  of  recurring  sensations  we  really  mean  the 
occurrence  of  something  similar.  There  can  never 
be  a  recurrence  of  the  same.  And  this  occurrence  of 
the  same  can  be  known  as  such  only  by  a  mind  which 
has  lifted  its  impressions  to  the  plane  of  fixed  ideas. 
And  it  is  through  these  fixed  ideas  of  the  understand- 
ing that  the  mind  is  able  to  bring  any  order  whatever 
into  the  flux  of  impressions  themselves. 

Thus  we  see  an  element  beyond  sense  experience 
entering  into  it  for  its  organization,  and  this  appears 
all  the  more  clearly  when  we  come  to  the  higher  ideas 
of  the  reason.  We  might  conceivably  have  a  suc- 
cession of  impressions,  and  these  might  be  gathered 
into  systems  of  sensations  in  classes  of  likeness  and 
difference,  and  still  we  should  not  have  the  actual 
experience  that  we  possess.  In  order  to  this  actual 
experience  some  ideas  must  be  brought  into  the  sense 
life. 

Thus,  suppose  we  see  a  moving  body.  What  do  the 
senses  really  give?  Of  course  at  first  thought  common 
sense  would  say,  "They  give  us  the  moving  body"; 
but  plainly  this  far  transcends  the  fact  of  sense.  All 
the  senses  would  give  us  in  such  a  case  would  be  a 
succession  of  visual  impressions  successively  changing 
their  apparent  place;  but  this  is  far  enough  from  the 
conception  of  a  moving  thing.  Such  an  experience 
could  be  presented  by  a  series  of  mirrors  or  by  our 
familiar  moving  pictures,  where  there  would  be  no 
real  motion  of  a  thing  at  all.  When  in  the  moving 
picture  we  see  the  train  rush  up  to  the  platform  and 
the  passengers  alight  and  the  train  depart,,  we  really 

13 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

see  no  moving  train  of  passengers  but  only  a  set  of 
optical  illusions.  And  yet  we  really  see  all  that  the 
senses  could  give  in  that  case  or  any  case.  Now,  we 
transcend  these  data  of  the  senses  by  importing  into 
the  sense  experience  the  idea  of  objective  space  with 
objective  reality  in  it,  moving  from  point  to  point 
in  space  and  remaining  identical  with  itself  through- 
out the  motion.  Not  until  this  is  done  can  we  speak  of 
seeing  a  body  move.  And  in  general  a  little  reflection 
enables  us  to  see  that  there  is  a  great  deal  in  thought 
that  does  not  exist  in  sense  at  all.  The  unities,  the 
identities,  the  causalities,  the  rational  connection 
which  for  reason  underlie  experience  cannot  be  pre- 
sented to  sense  in  any  way.  They  belong  rather  to 
the  unpicturable  notions  of  the  understanding.  Here, 
then,  in  sense  experience  we  find  a  great  surplusage 
over  and  above  anything  the  senses  can  give  us, 
and  this  surplusage  is  a  contribution  of  the  rational 
nature.  According  to  Hume  it  is  a  product  of  our 
mental  propensity  to  feign.  According  to  the  rational 
philosopher  it  is  an  expression  of  our  reason.  It  really 
does  not  matter  much  what  we  call  it  so  long  as  we 
see  that  the  work  thus  described  is  really  done  and 
that  the  ideas  mentioned  are  really  due  to  the  mind 
itself  and  that  their  function  is  to  organize  and 
rationalize  experience. 

These  considerations  serve  to  show  the  working  of 
immanent  rational  principles  in  the  mind.  And  yet 
it  is  rather  difficult  for  persons  unused  to  abstract 
thinking  to  grasp  the  fact,  because  apparently  we 
have  such  an  immediate  and  undeniable  knowledge 
of  things  given  to  us  in  sense  experience.  It  may  be 

14 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

of  use,  therefore,  to  take  another  line  of  reflection 
with  the  aim  of  bringing  this  constructive  activity 
on  the  part  of  the  mind  into  clearer  recognition. 

It  is  commonly  supposed  by  uncritical  thought  that 
the  existence  of  things  sufficiently  explains  our  per- 
ception of  them,  and  when,  then,  such  a  question  is 
raised  as,  How  is  knowledge  possible?  we  are  apt  to 
think  that  it  is  no  question  at  all;  the  things  are  really 
there  and  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  open  our  eyes  and 
see  them,  or  to  put  forth  our  hands  and  touch  them, 
or  to  walk  about  among  them,  and  nothing  more  is 
needed.  But  it  must  be  pointed  out  that  this  naive 
confidence  in  the  reality  of  things  by  no  means  re- 
moves the  fact  that  this  knowledge  is  nevertheless 
the  outcome  of  a  highly  complex  process  of  interpre- 
tation on  the  part  of  the  mind.  This  interpretation 
may  go  on  spontaneously  and  without  any  reflective 
activity  on  our  part;  but  it  goes  on  nevertheless.  If 
we  consider  what  the  physiologists  tell  us  about  the 
conditions  of  perception  we  see  that  the  interpretation 
and  the  principles  of  interpretation  must  necessarily 
come  from  within.  According  to  the  physiologists' 
report  the  condition  of  perception  is  some  form  of 
nervous  change  which  results  in  some  form  of  sens- 
itive impression.  But  no  reflection  upon  the  nervous 
change  of  which  we  know  nothing  immediately,  and 
generally  know  nothing  in  any  way,  will  ever  give  us 
the  world  of  things  as  it  is.  Neither  will  any  reflec- 
tion upon  impressions,  as  we  have  just  seen,  give  us  a 
conception  of  an  independent  and  abiding  world  of 
experience.  The  impressions  in  themselves  are  flit- 
ting, fleeting,  discontinuous.  The  world  of  things  is 

15 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

continuous  and  abiding.  Now,  how  can  we  pass  from 
the  vanishing  sense  fact  to  the  fixed  rational  fact? 
This  rational  fact  reports  itself  only  through  the  sense 
fact,  and  the  latter  is  all  that  we  can  possibly  receive 
from  without.  But  if  this  sense  fact  is  to  be  built  into 
a  solid  and  enduring  world  it  can  be  only  as  the  mind 
is  impelled  by  its  own  nature  to  work  over  the  sense 
fact  into  rational  forms,  which  forms  are  simply  the 
immanent  principles  of  reason  itself.  If  in  this  con- 
structive and  interpretative  process  the  mind  really 
apprehends  the  independent  fact,  it  can  be  only  as  the 
independent  fact  is  cast  in  the  moulds  and  forms  of 
reason,  for  we  can  think  only  in  the  forms  which  our 
rational  nature  prescribes.  But  in  any  case  the  object- 
ive fact  can  exist  for  us  only  through  our  own  mental 
construction.  In  further  illustration  of  this,  consider 
what  takes  place  in  conversation  and  mental  under- 
standing of  persons.  Here,  of  course,  there  can  be  no 
question  of  thoughts  leaving  one  mind  and  passing 
into  the  mind  of  another.  All  the  thoughts  that  can 
possibly  be  in  a  person's  mind  are  the  thoughts  he 
himself  thinks.  And  if  there  be  thoughts  in  others' 
minds  they  exist  for  him  only  as  he  thinks  them,  and 
he  can  grasp  the  thoughts  of  others  only  as  his  own 
mental  nature  makes  it  possible  for  him  to  do  so. 

Thus  we  see  again  that  experience  is  possible  only 
through  the  constructive  action  of  the  mind  accord- 
ing to  principles  immanent  in  it;  and  thus  we  see  that 
knowledge  in  general  is  possible  only  in  the  same  way. 
The  early  notion  of  a  passive  mind  passively  receiv- 
ing impressions  made  upon  it  must  be  definitely  and 
finally  set  aside,  and  in  its  place  must  rather  be  put 

16 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

the  notion  of  a  mind  active,  constructive,  constitut- 
ive, a  mind  which  by  its  own  action  according  to  its 
own  rational  nature  attains  to  knowledge  and  system- 
atized experience. 

This  was  not  Kant's  way  of  putting  his  doctrine  of 
experience,  but  it  represents  the  essential  thought  of 
his  doctrine  and  escapes  many  of  the  difficulties  into 
which  his  own  exposition  falls.  And  this  doctrine  is 
altogether  independent  of  Kant's  agnosticism  or  his 
peculiar  psychology.  This  is  the  abiding  and  imper- 
ishable element  in  Kant's  system  and  constitutes  his 
immortal  merit.  No  critical  weapon  formed  against 
the  view  has  prospered,  and  it  stands  invincible. 

But  before  passing  to  the  discussion  we  recur  again 
to  the  ambiguity  already  referred  to  in  this  general 
doctrine  of  empiricism.  The  question  between  empiri- 
cism and  rationalism  we  said  may  refer  to  the  origin 
of  mental  forms  or  to  the  validity  of  knowledge.  These 
two  questions  are  quite  distinct.  Many  empiricists 
have  held  that  all  the  higher  mental  forms  and  ideas 
are  built  up  from  experience,  but  they  have  not  ques- 
tioned the  objective  validity  of  knowledge.  In  a  way 
this  is  true  of  Locke.  Locke  held  that  all  know- 
ledge is  from  experience,  but  nevertheless  showed  no 
trace  of  skepticism  in  his  general  theory  of  knowing. 
Similarly  such  men  as  Herbert  Spencer  have  been 
thoroughgoing  empiricists  with  regard  to  the  higher 
forms  of  mentality,  but  they  have  been  far  enough 
from  reducing  their  beliefs  to  the  limits  of  this  view. 
And  on  the  other  hand,  there  have  been  apriorists 
as  to  mental  forms  like  Kant,  who  nevertheless  have 
maintained  that  speculation  cannot  demonstrate  the 

17 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

validity  of  these  conceptions,  but  the  practical  reason 
demands  them,  and  thus  what  we  lose  as  knowledge 
is  regained  as  belief.  Meanwhile,  reason  having  shown 
its  limitations  is  unable  to  make  any  protest  against 
the  extension  of  the  realm  of  faith.  Thus  strangely 
enough  we  find  these  two  men  who  were  so  opposed 
in  their  epistemology  practically  meeting  in  their 
metaphysics.  In  our  future  discussion  we  shall  find 
the  two  points  of  view  continually  mingling  and  very 
often  without  suspicion  of  the  fact.  We  shall  need  to 
keep  them  separate  in  order  that  we  may  see  just 
what  the  doctrines  we  are  treating  of  are  and  what 
they  are  not,  how  much  they  establish  and  how  much 
is  left  as  it  was  before. 

We  may  also  call  attention  here  to  a  certain  fact 
from  oversight  of  which  Kant  has  involved  his  system 
in  needless  skepticism  and  much  confusion.  If  we 
ask  concerning  the  possibility  of  knowledge  or  experi- 
ence we  note  that  there  are  two  sets  of  conditions, 
one  from  the  side  of  the  subject  and  one  from  the  side 
of  the  object,  and  for  a  complete  theory  of  knowledge 
both  sets  of  conditions  have  to  be  taken  into  account. 
Kant,  however,  took  account  of  only  one  set,  the 
conditions  from  the  side  of  the  subject.  Before  his 
time  these  conditions  had  been  very  largely  unsus- 
pected, as  they  always  are  by  common  sense,  and  it 
was  supposed  that  knowledge  was  a  simple  process, 
something  like  the  reflection  of  objects  in  a  mirror, 
and  the  fact  of  its  complex  conditions  from  the  side 
of  the  subject  was  undreamed  of.  Hence  it  was  im- 
portant that  the  subjective  conditions  should  be 
emphasized,  and  this  Kant  did.  And  this  led  him 

18 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

to  say  that  the  understanding  makes  nature,  and  to 
represent  the  mind  as  acting  out  of  itself  alone;  and 
this  he  did  in  such  a  way  as  almost  certainly  to  imply 
a  species  of  idealism,  if  not  outright  nihilism.  We  can 
easily  see  how  Kant  was  led  to  extravagances  of  this 
kind.  It  is  perfectly  clear  that  the  mind  can  know 
nothing  without  except  as  it  constructs  it  within. 
As  I  can  grasp  another's  thought  only  by  thinking 
his  thought  for  myself,  and  as  that  other's  thought  is 
immediately  my  own  thought,  even  though  I  attrib- 
ute it  to  him,  so  I  can  grasp  the  world  without, 
however  independent  it  may  be  of  me  and  however 
objective  its  laws  may  be,  only  as  I  construct  that 
world  by  my  own  rational  activities  for  myself.  In 
this  sense,  then,  the  mind  makes  nature  in  so  far  as 
the  mind  apprehends  it.  But  this  is  very  far  from 
justifying  the  claim  that  the  mind  is  absolutely  inde- 
pendent in  this  making.  Although  I  make  nature  so 
far  as  it  exists  for  me,  I  cannot  make  it  as  I  please.  I 
cannot  fill  space  with  all  manner  of  objects  at  my 
pleasure,  or  invert  the  laws  of  the  outer  world  at  will. 
To  be  sure,  I  can  know  things  only  through  my  own 
activity,  but  I  cannot  know  them  even  then  unless 
they  are  in  themselves  knowable.  That  is,  in  the 
complete  theory  of  knowledge  we  must  consider  the 
nature  of  the  object  as  well  as  the  nature  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  when  we  go  so  far  as  to  make  the  mind  un- 
conditioned in  its  cognitive  activities  the  result,  as 
said,  would  be  necessarily  idealism  or  nihilism.  From 
failure  to  note  this  fact  Kant  is  continually  on  the 
borders  of  an  idealism  which  he  repudiated,  but  into 
which  he  was  nevertheless  driven.  When  the  laws 

19 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

of  thought  have  no  application  to  things,  then  things 
themselves  are  strictly  unknowable  and  the  next 
thing  is  to  deny  them  altogether.  Thus  we  reach  a 
sort  of  solipsistic  idealism.  But  there  was  nothing 
in  Kant's  fundamental  conception  that  necessitated 
this  onesidedness.  It  is  entirely  possible  to  retain 
Kant's  doctrine  of  experience  without  accepting  his 
phenomenalism  and  agnosticism.  We  shall  find  the 
contradictions  resulting  from  these  two  factors  con- 
tinually emerging  in  Kant's  exposition. 

The  importance  of  establishing  the  truth  in  Kant's 
system  and  also  the  confusion  resulting  from  his 
phenomenalism  leads  to  another  illustration.  There 
is  a  great  deal  in  Kant's  terminology  that  is  exceed- 
ingly operose  and  difficult,  which  nevertheless  when 
the  matter  is  understood  represents  a  manifest  fact  of 
experience.  Suppose  we  assume  a  manuscript  in  an 
unknown  tongue  which  we  are  to  interpret.  We  may 
ask,  What  are  the  general  conditions  of  its  interpre- 
tation? 

In  Kant's  exposition  of  the  transcendental  analytic 
he  points  out  sundry  fundamental  conditions  of  know- 
ledge. There  must  be,  first,  a  synthesis  of  apprehen- 
sion in  intuition;  second,  a  synthesis  of  reproduction 
in  imagination;  third,  a  synthesis  of  recognition  in 
concepts;  and  then  finally,  as  the  original  and  tran- 
scendental condition,  there  must  be  what  he  calls 
transcendental  apperception.  Now  the  unpracticed 
reader  might  well  be  excused  for  saying  that  he  was 
sure  there  was  nothing  whatever  of  this  kind  in  any 
of  his  mental  operations,  and  yet  these  tremendous 
phrases  cover  very  simple  and  undeniable  facts.  Thus 

20 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

in  studying  our  manuscript  we  should  find  a  variety 
of  words  and  phrases,  and  if  it  were  not  possible  for 
us  to  combine  these  in  apprehension  we  should  lose 
ourselves  in  the  plurality  of  words  and  even  of  letters, 
and  no  thought  whatever  would  emerge.  Now,  this 
possibility  of  doing  these  many  things  together  is  the 
synthesis  of  apprehension  in  intuition.  Again,  it  is 
manifest  that  as  we  pass  from  point  to  point  it  must 
be  possible  to  retain  or  reproduce  the  points  passed 
over  in  our  present  consciousness,  otherwise  each 
would  be  forgotten  as  soon  as  it  was  reached  and  thus 
consciousness  itself  would  vanish.  Now,  this  possi- 
bility of  retaining  and  reproducing  past  facts  is  all 
that  is  meant  by  the  synthesis  of  reproduction  in 
imagination.  Further,  if  the  ideas  which  we  have  had 
in  the  early  stages  of  our  study  when  reproduced  were 
not  recognized,  it  would  be  equivalent  to  no  reproduc- 
tion, so  far  as  any  systematic  knowledge  goes.  The 
reproduced  idea  would  be  a  new  one,  and  this  per- 
fectly simple  fact  is  what  is  meant  by  the  synthesis 
of  recognition  in  concepts.  And  finally,  if  there  were 
not  an  abiding  subject  throughout  the  entire  process, 
in  the  unity  of  whose  consciousness  these  various 
factors  are  related  to  the  subject  and  to  one  another 
in  their  various  temporal  and  logical  relations,  there 
would  be  no  consciousness  whatever.  Apart  from 
the  particular  objects  of  consciousness  or  particular 
ideas,  it  is  necessary  that  they  all  be  grouped  and 
related  in  reference  to  the  abiding  conscious  subject, 
without  which  they  fall  asunder  and  cannot  become 
factors  of  one  consciousness  at  all.  And  this  obvious 
fact  is  all  that  is  meant  by  the  transcendental  unity 

21 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

of  apperception.  Thus  we  see  that  these  high-sound- 
ing phrases  of  Kant's  are  really  perfectly  simple  and 
undeniable  facts,  and  moreover  they  are  the  indis- 
pensable conditions  of  any  knowledge  whatever.  So 
then,  in  the  understanding  of  our  manuscript  we  must 
assume  the  facts  and  activities  referred  to  as  abso- 
lutely necessary  conditions  of  any  knowledge  of  it 
by  us. 

It  is  further  clear  that  any  meaning  we  get  out  of 
our  manuscript  must  be  one  that  we  put  into  it,  for 
clearly  the  manuscript  as  such  has  no  meaning  in  it 
objectively  considered.  It  has  meaning  only  from 
mind  and  for  mind,  and  the  meaning  it  may  have  for 
us,  the  students,  must  be  one  that  we  attribute  to  it. 
It  is  a  meaning  that  we  ourselves  produce  in  our  own 
minds  and  refer  to  the  manuscript,  and  hence  we  can 
say  in  some  sense  that  we  ourselves  make  the  meaning. 
We  have  to  fix  the  significance  of  the  terms  and  unite 
them  in  their  various  logical  relations,  and  all  of  this 
is  our  own  activity.  From  the  side  of  the  student, 
then,  we  might  say  that  the  mind  makes  the  meaning 
and  can  never  find  any  meaning  other  than  that  it 
makes.  This  conclusion  necessarily  results  from  the 
mental  activity  in  all  knowing,  or  from  the  fact 
that  nothing  whatever  can  exist  for  the  mind  except 
through  its  own  action. 

So  far  we  go  with  Kant;  but  it  is  next  manifest  that 
unless  the  manuscript  had  some  meaning  apart  from 
our  manipulation  it  would  not  admit  of  being  under- 
stood. The  thought  we  get  out  of  it  is  in  some  sense 
the  thought  we  put  into  it,  but  unless  there  is  some 
thought  expressed  in  it,  it  would  never  be  possible  for 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

us  to  get  any  thought  out  of  it.  In  that  case  we  should 
simply  be  seeking  to  understand  random  scratches  or 
blotches,  which  would  be  a  hopeless  operation.  It 
would  not  be  much  better  if  we  should  say  that  we 
get  only  the  phenomenal  meaning  of  the  manuscript 
and  not  the  meaning  of  the  manuscript  in  itself.  We 
get  only  the  meaning  which  it  has  for  us,  but  back  of 
this  meaning  is  another  transcendental  meaning,  in 
which  we  must  believe,  but  which  we  can  never  reach. 
Every  one  would  see  the  impossibility  of  a  phenome- 
nalism of  this  kind.  We  should  never  have  the  slight- 
est reason  for  affirming  any  such  transcendental 
meaning,  and  we  never  could  connect  that  meaning 
with  the  meaning  we  ourselves  discern.  If  we  should 
further  say  that  the  manuscript  has  no  meaning  in 
itself,  but  that  the  apparent  meaning  which  we  find 
in  it  is  simply  a  production  of  our  own  ideas  with- 
out any  objective  correspondence,  we  should  find  our- 
selves equally  blocked,  for  there  would  be  no  possi- 
bility of  binding  an  intelligible  meaning  on  to  a  purely 
unintelligible  and  unrelated  origin.  Plainly  we  should 
have  to  say  that  our  interpretation  is  not  merely 
conditioned  by  our  own  mental  nature,  but  also  by 
the  nature  of  the  manuscript  itself,  and  probably  we 
should  find  no  resting-place  for  the  meaning  in  the 
manuscript.  We  posit  the  mind  behind  the  manu- 
script, of  whose  thought  the  manuscript  is  the  ex- 
pression. Without  insisting  on  the  accuracy  of  every 
factor  of  this  illustration,  it  does  serve  to  show  how 
knowledge  can  arise  only  through  the  mind  in  its  own 
activity,  and  how  certain  conditions  must  be  fulfilled 
in  order  that  this  knowledge  shall  be  possible  even 

23 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

as  a  subjective  experience;  and  it  also  shows  how  the 
knowledge,  which  as  psychological  event  is  our  own 
mental  product,  is  as  phenomenon  objectively  con- 
ditioned, so  that  finally  the  meaning  which  we  dis- 
cover is  not  something  that  we  make,  but  something 
that  we  find.  It  exists  apart  from  our  own  thinking, 
and  our  thought  is  simply  the  instrument  for  grasp- 
ing a  content  beyond  itself. 

With  this  general  hint  of  the  nature  of  the  work 
before  us  we  now  proceed  to  expound  the  system  as 
Kant  himself  gave  it.  In  general  we  shall  find  much 
labored  and  operose  discussion,  some  confusion  and 
some  error;  but  along  with  it  all  and  greatly  over- 
balancing it  all,  we  shall  find  a  system  of  thought 
which  has  taken  possession  of  the  modern  mind  and 
which  constitutes  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  im- 
portant contributions  to  philosophical  thinking. 

Kant's  approach  to  the  problem  was  conditioned 
by  the  philosophical  situation  of  his  time.  According 
to  Kant  experience  is  the  first  product  of  our  under- 
standing. It  had  been  held  by  the  earlier  empiricists 
that  experience  itself  could  be  given  from  without  by 
some  nervous  affection  or  some  simple  impression  in 
the  sensibility.  Sensation  at  least  was  regarded  as 
something  that  could  be  furnished  readymade,  but 
this  itself  we  have  seen  to  be  impossible.  The  consti- 
tutive action  of  the  understanding  penetrates  into 
sensation  so  far  as  it  is  anything  articulate.  We  have 
before  seen  that  sensation,  without  the  fixed  ideas 
of  the  understanding  whereby  it  becomes  an  abid- 
ing and  identical  content,  is  strictly  nothing  for  us. 

24 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

According  to  Kant,  then,  even  our  ordinary  sense 
experience  is  not  a  datum  from  without,  but  is  the 
first  product  of  our  understanding.  That  all  our 
knowledge  begins  with  experience  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  he  says.  In  respect  to  time,  therefore,  no 
knowledge  within  us  is  antecedent  to  experience,  but 
all  knowledge  begins  with  it;  but  though  all  our  know- 
ledge begins  with  experience,  it  does  not  follow  that  it 
rises  from  experience;  for  it  is  quite  possible  that  even 
our  empirical  experience  is  a  compound  of  that  which 
we  receive  through  impressions  and  of  that  which  our 
own  faculty  of  knowledge  (incited  only  by  sensuous 
impressions)  supplies  from  itself,  a  supplement  which 
we  do  not  distinguish  from  that  raw  material  until 
long  practice  has  arrested  our  attention  and  rendered 
us  capable  of  separating  one  from  the  other. 

That  this  is  the  case  is  Kant's  claim.  There  exists 
a  knowledge  independent  of  experience  and  even  of 
all  impressions  of  the  senses.  Such  knowledge  he 
calls  a  priori  and  distinguishes  from  empirical  know- 
ledge, which  has  its  sources  a  posteriori,  that  is,  in 
experience.  He  further  defines  a  priori  knowledge  as 
follows:  "We  shall  therefore,  in  what  follows,  under- 
stand by  knowledge  a  priori,  knowledge  which  is 
absolutely  independent  of  all  experience,  and  not  of 
this  or  that  experience  only.  Opposed  to  this  is  em- 
pirical knowledge,  or  such  as  is  possible  a  posteriori 
only,  that  is,  by  experience.  Knowledge  a  priori,  if 
mixed  up  with  nothing  empirical,  is  called  pure.  Thus 
the  proposition,  for  example,  that  every  change  has 
its  cause,  is  a  proposition  a  priori,  but  not  pure:  be- 
cause change  is  a  concept  which  can  only  be  derived 

25 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

from  experience"  (p.  716). 1  The  a  priori  element, 
then,  is  one  which  the  mind  brings  out  of  its  own 
resources  and  does  not  receive  from  without.  This 
element  does  indeed  emerge  out  of  some  experience, 
but  when  it  does  come  it  is  seen  to  be  independent  of 
experience.  For  example,  the  truths  of  mathematics 
were  not  perceived  before  we  had  some  sense  experi- 
ence, but  when  the  mind  became  capable  of  reasoning 
mathematically  it  saw  that  those  truths  stand  in  their 
own  light  and  far  transcend  all  experience  whatever. 
The  characteristic  of  all  such  a  priori  knowledge  is 
that  it  is  in  the  strictest  sense  necessary  and  universal. 
No  particular  experience  can  give  us  universal  and 
necessary  truth.  And  when  we  find  judgments  of 
such  universality  and  necessity  we  come  upon  a 
special  source  of  knowledge  other  than  experience. 

In  further  exposition  of  the  subject  Kant  intro- 
duces his  distinction  between  analytical  and  syn- 
thetic judgments.  Analytical  judgments  are  those 
in  which  the  predicate  merely  expresses  what  is  meant 
by  the  subject.  They  may  serve  to  clarify  our  thought, 
but  they  never  extend  knowledge.  Thus,  if  I  say,  a 
triangle  is  a  three-cornered  figure,  the  predicate  only 
tells  the  meaning  of  the  subject,  but  it  gives  no  new 
information  to  any  one  who  understands  the  meaning 
of  the  term.  If,  then,  knowledge  is  to  be  increased 
and  is  not  to  remain  a  barren  tautology  of  definition, 
synthetic  judgments  must  be  possible. 

But  synthetic  judgments  fall  into  two  classes,  syn- 
thetic judgments  a  posteriori  and  synthetic  judg- 

1  [Unless  otherwise  indicated  all  quotations  from  Kant  are  taken 
from  Max  Muller's  translation  of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason.] 

26 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

ments  a  priori.  The  former  class  are  simple  judgments 
of  experience.  They  recite  what  we  have  experienced, 
but  they  never  tell  what  is  universal  and  always  true. 
It  is  plain  that  such  judgments  would  simply  narrate 
what  has  been,  and  would  never  give  any  warrant  for 
saying  what  will  be  or  must  be.  In  themselves  they 
would  not  even  constitute  a  probability.  Hence  it 
is  clear  that  the  problem  of  knowledge  depends  on 
the  possibility  of  synthetic  judgments  a  priori.  If  the 
latter  are  impossible,  then  we  are  shut  up,  as  said, 
to  mere  narration,  and  if  we  eliminate  all  synthetic 
elements  whatever  of  an  a  priori  nature  we  are  shut 
up  to  the  vanishing  flux  and  phantasmagoria  of 
Hume's  nihilism.  Thus  we  see  how  the  question  of 
philosophy  may  be  expressed  in  the  form,  How  are 
synthetic  judgments  a  priori  possible? 

It  would  be  easy  to  cavil  against  this  distinction 
of  Kant's  on  the  ground  that  there  are  no  purely  ana- 
lytic judgments  except  such  formal  ones  as  A  =  A; 
and  even  this  judgment  in  any  concrete  application 
is  synthetic,  because  in  the  concrete  it  assumes  that 
A  is  a  definite  fixed  concept  in  its  several  appearances 
in  experience.  The  judgment  of  identity  in  the  con- 
crete always  presupposes  at  least  two  experiences  of 
the  identical  thing,  and  the  experience  itself  could 
never  give  us  more  than  a  similarity  of  any  two 
experiences  more  or  less  exact.  To  pass  from  this 
similarity  to  the  formation  of  the  real  identity  is 
something  impossible  to  an  analytic  judgment.  Any 
judgment  whatever  that  goes  beyond  the  immediate 
impression  of  sense  contains  some  synthetic  principle 
in  it,  but  Kant  knew  this  well  enough,  as  clearly 

27 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

appears  in  the  progress  of  his  work;  but  the  notion 
that  analytical  judgments  were  fruitful  and  involved 
no  rational  insight  on  the  part  of  the  mind  was  cur- 
rent in  his  time,  and  moreover  Hume  by  his  denial 
of  causal  and  substantive  connection  had  thrown 
doubt  upon  the  possibility  of  synthetic  judgments  in 

»  general.  On  this  account  Kant  proceeds  from  the 
distinction  of  the  two  classes,  and  aims  to  show  that 
a  priori  syntheses  exist  and  find  their  possibility  in 
the  nature  of  the  mind  itself  and  its  relation  to 

y  experience. 

Now  that  such  a  priori  syntheses  exist  is  evident, 
according  to  Kant,  from  an  inspection  of  the  sciences 
of  mathematics,  physics,  and  metaphysics.  Mathe- 
matics itself  is  not  a  science  made  up  of  analytical 
judgments,  but  is  rather  based  upon  a  priori  syntheses 
throughout.  Thus,  to  take  his  example,  7  +  5=  12 
is  not  an  analytical  proposition,  for  mere  analysis 
would  give  us  nothing  more  than  7  +  5  =  7  +  5.  That 
7  +  5=  12  is  gained  only  through  a  synthetic  pro- 
cess of  counting,  whereby  we  perceive  that  the  pro- 
blem admits  of  solution  and  that  the  sum  is  really  12. 
No  simply  analytical  reflection  under  the  law  of  iden- 
tity will  give  us  this  result.  We  must  fall  back  on  the 
counting  process  on  which  the  numerical  synthesis 
depends.  Again,  Kant  says,  geometry  as  well  as  arith- 
metic is  likewise  synthetic.  That  a  straight  line  is  the 
shortest  distance  between  two  points  is  something 
which  cannot  be  deduced  by  any  reflection  upon  the 
conception  of  a  line  of  constant  direction.  We  must 
rather  construct  the  process  within  the  spatial  im- 
agination itself,  and  when  we  do  this  we  see  the  propo- 

28 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

sition  to  be  true.  Similarly  in  proving  geometrical 
propositions  in  general,  we  do  not  proceed  by  any 
analysis  of  the  lines  and  figures,  but  rather  by  con- 
structing the  problem  and  by  producing  various 
auxiliary  lines  which  enable  us  to  see  the  truth  in 
question. 

Mathematics,  then,  in  its  two  great  branches  of 
arithmetic  and  geometry,  is  an  a  priori  science,  and 
Kant  thought  that  if  Hume  had  noticed  this  fact  he 
would  not  so  soon  have  despaired  of  philosophy;  for 
here  in  mathematics  we  have  a  priori  syntheses,  and 
if  the  mind  is  capable  of  them  here  it  might  be  capa- 
ble of  them  elsewhere.  To  doubt  the  truth  of  mathe- 
matics seemed  to  Kant  a  piece  of  frivolity  of  which  no 
earnest  mind  could  be  guilty.  Had  he,  however,  been 
better  acquainted  with  Hume's  work  he  would  have 
seen  that  Hume  had  proceeded  even  to  this  extreme. 

But  mathematics  is  not  the  only  field  of  a  priori 
syntheses;  for  natural  science  also  contains  synthetic 
judgments  a  priori  as  principles.  As  examples  may  be 
adduced  the  law  of  causation,  the  constancy  of  the 
quantity  of  matter,  the  equality  of  action  and  reac- 
tion. Propositions  of  this  kind  are  plainly  not  ana- 
lytical, but  they  are  commonly  given  as  the  basis  of 
physical  science. 

Metaphysics,  too,  at  least  claims  to  contain  syn- 
thetic knowledge  a  priori.  Its  object  is  not  at  all 
merely  to  analyze  our  concepts  of  things,  but  to  go 
beyond  all  experience  in  judgments  concerning  the 
nature  of  the  world,  its  beginning,  its  cause,  etc.;  so 
that  at  least  in  intention  metaphysics  consists  entirely 
of  synthetic  judgments  a  priori. 

29 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

Our  original  question  respecting  the  possibility  of 
philosophy  took  the  form,  How  are  synthetic  judg- 
ments a  priori  possible?  We  may  now  specify  the 
question  into  three  others :  first,  Is  pure  mathematics 
possible?  second,  Is  pure  physics  —  that  is,  natural 
science  in  general  —  possible?  and  third,  Is  meta- 
physics possible?  Of  the  first  two  sciences  Kant  says, 
"As  these  sciences  really  exist,  it  is  quite  proper  to 
ask  how  they  are  possible,  for  that  they  must  be 
possible  is  proved  by  their  reality." 

Kant  had  great  faith  in  both  mathematics  and 
physics.  With  regard  to  metaphysics  the  result  of  his 
system  is  to  show  that  it  is  not  possible  as  a  science, 
but  as  a  general  disposition  or  failing  of  the  human 
mind,  it  is  nevertheless  real.  And  the  reality  it  has 
depends  upon  the  a  priori  syntheses  contained  in  it. 
It  is  plain,  then,  that  whether  valid  or  not,  a  priori 
syntheses  play  a  great  part  in  actual  human  thinking: 
sometimes  a  valid  part,  as  in  mathematics  and  phys- 
ics, and  sometimes  a  doubtful  part,  if  not  a  distinctly 
misleading  one,  as  in  dogmatic  metaphysics.  In  all 
this  we  see  a  vindication  of  the  activity  of  the  mind 
in  knowledge,  in  reply  to  all  those  who  have  main- 
tained its  passivity.  It  does  not  follow,  however,  that 
these  a  priori  syntheses  are  necessarily  valid,  as  has 
just  been  suggested  in  the  case  of  metaphysics;  but 
it  does  follow  that  the  mind  is  active  according  to 
principles  inherent  in  its  own  rational  structure,  and 
that  these  principles  are  really  determinative  of  our 
mental  procedure.  We  now  proceed  to  examine  Kant's 
reply  to  the  several  questions  just  distinguished. 

But  first  of  all,  a  word  must  be  said  of  Kant's 

30 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

psychology.  He  distinguishes  between  sensibility, 
the  understanding,  and  the  reason.  The  sensibility 
merely  receives  impressions.  The  understanding 
works  these  over  in  its  own  forms,  and  the  reason 
finally  prescribes  the  general  outline  for  our  later 
mental  activity.  Doubts  may  be  raised  concerning 
this  distinction  in  each  case.  Thus  the  separation  of 
sense  from  understanding  is  disputed,  on  the  ground 
that  there  is  no  pure  sensibility  apart  from  the  activ- 
ity of  the  understanding.  This  may  be  true,  but  it  is 
really  no  valid  objection  to  Kant's  exposition.  His 
general  doctrine  so  far  as  true  is  quite  independent 
of  this  distinction,  and  it  is  not  possible  to  say  every- 
thing at  once.  Kant  certainly  speaks  of  the  sensi-1 
bility  as  if  of  itself  it  supplied  us  with  intuitions  or 
objects.  At  the  same  time  Kant  very  well  knew,  as 
later  appears,  that  if  we  should  abstract  from  any  ob- 
ject or  intuition  whatever  the  elements  contributed  by 
the  understanding,  there  would  be  nothing  articulate 
left.  When,  then,  in  the  beginning  of  the  transcend- 
ental aesthetics  we  find  Kant  speaking  as  if  a  world 
of  things  in  themselves  existed  outside  of  us  and  acted 
upon  us,  just  as  common  sense  supposes  bodies  apart 
from  our  organisms  to  affect  us,  we  are  not  to  take 
the  matter  too  seriously,  but  only  as  Kant's  way  of 
getting  the  problem  stated.  If  he  had  passed  at  once 
to  his  developed  view  it  would  have  made  the  exposi- 
tion much  more  difficult  and  really  not  much  more 
effective.  He  states  the  distinction  between  the  sen- 
sibility and  the  understanding  as  follows:  "There  are 
two  stems  of  human  knowledge  which  perhaps  spring 
from  a  common  but  to  us  unknown  root,  namely, 

31 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

sensibility  and  understanding."  Again  he  says,  "Our 
knowledge  springs  from  two  fundamental  sources  of 
our  soul;  the  first  receives  representations  (receptiv- 
ity of  impressions),  the  second  is  the  power  of  know- 
ing an  object  by  these  representations  (spontaneity  of 
concepts).  By  the  first  an  object  is  given  us,  by  the 
second  the  object  is  thought,  in  relation  to  that  repre- 
sentation which  is  a  mere  determination  of  the  soul. 
Intuition,  therefore,  and  concepts  constitute  the  ele- 
ments of  all  our  knowledge,  so  that  neither  concepts 
without  an  intuition  corresponding  to  them,  nor  intui- 
tion without  concepts  can  yield  any  real  knowledge. 
.  .  .  We  call  sensibility  the  receptivity  of  our  soul,  or 
its  power  of  receiving  representations  whenever  it  is 
in  any  wise  affected,  while  the  understanding,  on  the 
contrary,  is  with  us  the  power  of  producing  represent- 
ations, or  the  spontaneity  of  knowledge.  We  are  so 
constituted  that  our  intuition  must  always  be  sensu- 
ous, and  consist  of  the  mode  in  which  we  are  affected 
by  objects.  What  enables  us  to  think  the  objects  of 
our  sensuous  intuition  is  the  understanding.  Neither 
of  these  qualities  or  faculties  is  preferable  to  the  other. 
Without  sensibility  objects  would  not  be  given  to  us, 
without  understanding  they  would  not  be  thought 
by  us.  Thoughts  without  contents  are  empty,  in- 
tuitions without  concepts  are  blind.  Therefore  it  is 
equally  necessary  to  make  our  concepts  sensuous, 
that  is,  to  add  to  them  their  object  in  intuition,  as  to 
make  our  intuitions  intelligible,  that  is,  to  bring  them 
under  concepts.  These  two  powers  or  faculties  can- 
not exchange  their  functions.  The  understanding 
cannot  see,  the  senses  cannot  think.  By  their  union 

32 


KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

only  can  knowledge  be  produced.  But  this  is  no  reason 
for  confounding  the  share  which  belongs  to  each  in 
the  production  of  knowledge.  On  the  contrary,  they 
should  always  be  carefully  separated  and  distin- 
guished, and  we  have  therefore  divided  the  science 
of  the  rules  of  sensibility  in  general,  that  is,  aesthetic, 
from  the  science  of  the  rules  of  the  understanding  in 
general,  that  is,  logic."  (Page  40.) 

The  distinction  thus  made  is  in  the  main  sound  and 
yet  not  altogether  satisfactory.  At  all  events,  it  is 
not  satisfactory  so  long  as  the  two  elements  are  held 
apart  as  if  they  could  possibly  exist  separately  in 
consciousness.  It  is  of  course  true  that  to  give  a  con- 
ception any  connection  with  reality  there  must  be 
some  kind  of  perception,  and  in  perception  we  are 
passive  in  this  sense,  that  we  cannot  have  percep- 
tions or  intuitions  at  will  or  dismiss  them  at  pleasure. 
Hence  all  fruitful  thinking  must  connect  with  reality 
through  perception,  which  in  turn  as  we  are  con- 
structed is  founded  upon  some  form  of  affection  of  our 
sensibility.  Without  this  our  concepts  merely  float 
in  the  air  and  are  purely  formal,  as  when  we  think  of 
the  contents  of  a  new  sense  which  we  do  not  possess. 
In  this  case  wre  can  talk  formally  as  wisely  as  we  can 
of  a  real  sense,  say  that  of  color,  but  inasmuch  as 
there  is  no  experience  corresponding  to  it  it  remains 
empty.  And  it  is  equally  clear  that  impressions  with- 
out some  conception  for  their  expression  and  under- 
standing are  altogether  blind.  We  must,  however, 
be  careful  not  to  suppose  that  the  distinction  thus 
made  is  one  which  can  be  clearly  realized  inexperience. 
We  see  that  the  pure  sensibility  is  only  a  limit  to 

33 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

which  experience  can  never  attain,  for  when  the  last 
thought  element  vanishes  there  no  longer  is  any 
articulate  consciousness  whatever.  The  distinction, 
therefore,  is  not  to  be  made  absolute,  and  when  Kant 
extends  the  sensibility  to  include  the  forms  of  space 
and  time,  as  if  they  were  a  species  of  passive  intuition, 
the  distinction  becomes  quite  untenable;  for  the  spa- 
tial and  temporal  synthesis  is  also  a  promiennt  form 
of  mental  activity  and  is  in  no  way  to  be  looked  upon 
as  a  passive  reception  of  forms  and  figures.  It  may  be 
said  that  Kant  himself  later  recognized  this  fact  in 
the  functions  which  he  ascribes  to  the  imagination 
both  in  original  apprehension  and  in  reproduction. 
In  that  case  we  shall  have  to  regard  the  distinction 
as  Kant  makes  it  at  the  start  as  a  kind  of  provisional 
one  for  the  sake  of  getting  his  doctrine  understood, 
and  not  as  one  to  be  taken  with  exact  literalness. 

We  now  proceed  to  Kant's  doctrine  of  space  and 
time  which  gives  his  answer  to  the  question,  How  is 
pure  mathematics  possible?  And  first  we  consider 
his  doctrine  of  space. 

Space 

Kant's  general  doctrine  of  space  is  that  it  is  the 
form  of  experience  and  no  reality  in  itself  and  also  no 
relation  of  things  in  themselves  apart  from  intellect. 
It  exists,  then,  only  for  and  through  intelligence;  and 
apart  from  the  experience  of  which  it  is  the  form  it  is 
nothing.  For  this  general  doctrine,  however,  he  does 
not  give  the  best  of  reasons.  The  exposition  through- 
out is  confused  and  at  times  inconsequent.  This  fact 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  since  Kant's  doctrine  in  this 

34 


SPACE 

matter  was  a  new  departure  in  the  world  of  thought, 
and  it  seldom  happens  that  such  a  new  departure 
receives  its  adequate  and  final  exposition  at  the 
beginning. 

In  the  exposition  Kant  sets  forth  the  following 
statements:  — 

1.  "Space  is  not  an  empirical  concept  which  has 
been  derived  from  external  experience.  For  in  order 
that  certain  sensations  should  be  referred  to  some- 
thing outside  himself,  that  is,  to  something  in  a 
different  part  of  space  from  that  where  I  am;  again, 
in  order  that  I  may  be  able  to  represent  them  as  side 
by  side,  that  is,  not  only  as  different  but  as  in  different 
places,  the  representation  of  space  must  already  be 
there.   Therefore  the  representation  of  space  cannot 
be  borrowed  through  experience  from  relations  of 
external  phenomena,  but,  on  the  contrary,  this  external 
experience  becomes  possible  only  by  means  of  the 
representation  of  space." 

2.  "Space  is  a  necessary  representation  a  priori, 
forming  the  very  foundation  of  all  external  intuitions. 
It  is  impossible  to  imagine  that  there  should  be  no 
space,  though  one  might  very  well  imagine  that  there 
should  be  space  without  objects  to  fill  it.    Space  is 
therefore  regarded  as  a  condition  of  the  possibility 
of  phenomena,  not  as  a  determination  produced  by 
them;  it  is  a  representation  a  priori  which  necessarily 
precedes  all  external  phenomena." 

3.  "Space  is  not  a  discursive  or  so-called  general 
concept  of  the  relations  of  things  in  general,  but  a  pure 
intuition.   For  first  of  all  we  can  imagine  one  space 
only,  and  if  we  speak  of  many  spaces  we  mean  parts 

35 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

only  of  one  and  the  same  space.  Nor  can  these  parts 
be  considered  as  antecedent  to  the  one  and  all- 
embracing  space,  and,  as  it  were,  its  component  parts 
out  of  which  an  aggregate  is  formed,  but  they  can  be 
thought  of  as  existing  within  it  only.  Space  is  essen- 
tially one;  its  multiplicity,  and  therefore  the  general 
concept  of  spaces  in  general,  arises  entirely  from  limit- 
ations. Hence  it  follows  that  with  respect  to  space, 
an  intuition  a  priori,  which  is  not  empirical,  must 
form  the  foundation  of  all  conceptions  of  space." 

"Space  is  represented  as  an  infinite  quantity.  Now 
a  general  concept  of  space,  which  is  found  in  a  foot 
as  well  as  in  an  ell,  could  tell  us  nothing  in  respect 
to  the  quantity  of  the  space.  If  there  were  not  in- 
finity in  the  progression  of  intuition,  no  concept  of 
relations  of  space  could  ever  contain  a  principle  of 
infinity."  (Page  18.) 

In  drawing  conclusions  from  these  statements  Kant 
holds  that  space  is  nothing  but  the  form  of  all  phe- 
nomena of  the  external  senses  or  the  subjective  condi- 
tion of  our  sensibility.  And  we  can  affirm  space  and 
understand  objects  only  from  the  human  standpoint. 

On  the  first  point  stated  by  Kant  there  need  be  no 
question.  Space  is  not  a  mere  abstraction  built  up  in 
experience.  The  general  fact  that  nothing  whatever 
can  exist  for  mind  except  through  a  constructive 
activity  by  the  mind  makes  it  necessary  to  hold  that 
space,  supposing  it  to  be  objectively  real,  could  not 
pass  bodily  into  the  mind,  but  could  exist  for  the 
mind  only  as  the  mind  gives  its  experience  this  spatial 
form.  The  other  points  made  by  Kant,  however,  are 
more  questionable.  He  speaks  of  space  as  a  necessary 

36 


SPACE 

representation  or  perception,  as  if  it  were  an  object 
and  even  as  if  it  preceded  the  perception  of  other 
objects.  He  likewise  calls  it  the  form  of  perception 
or  the  form  of  all  phenomena  of  the  external  sense. 
These  two  conceptions  are  by  no  means  the  same 
thing.  As  the  form  of  experience  it  would  not  itself 
be  a  given  object.  Furthermore,  from  the  fact  that 
space  is  originally  a  form  of  human  experience  it  does 
not  follow,  without  further  reasons  than  Kant  gives, 
that  space  is  limited  only  to  phenomena  or  to  the  field 
of  human  experience.  For  all  that  he  says  it  would 
be  possible  to  view  space  as  universal  for  all  experi- 
ence of  whatever  kind,  human  or  otherwise. 

The  psychology  of  to-day,  even  when  holding  to 
Kant's  general  doctrine  of  space,  is  compelled  to 
present  the  matter  in  a  different  way.  Space  is  not 
originally  given  as  one  and  infinite,  neither  is  it  given 
as  a  perception  which  is  the  condition  of  other  per- 
ceptions. The  mind  on  the  basis  of  its  sense  affections 
builds  up  various  spatial  objects  and  sets  these  in 
spatial  relations  to  one  another,  without  any  thought 
whatever  of  the  unity  and  infinity  of  space.  Acting 
as  it  does  under  the  space  law,  it  produces  its  limited 
spatial  experience,  and  it  is  only  later,  when  reflection 
begins,  that  the  unity  and  infinity  of  space  comes 
into  thought.  Indeed,  in  our  concrete  experience 
even  the  unity  of  space  depends  upon  a  certain  con- 
tinuity and  quality  within  experience  itself.  When  we 
imagine  a  series  of  spatial  figures  at  successive  times 
it  never  occurs  to  us  to  think  that  these  figures, 
though  spatial,  are  yet  in  the  same  space.  Each  is  in 
its  own  space  at  the  time  of  imagining,  but  there  is 

37 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

no  one  space  that  contains  them  all.  Similarly  our 
sense  experience  might  well  have  been  such  that 
different  experiences  might  each  have  had  the  spatial 
form  without,  however,  suggesting  any  one  space  in 
which  they  might  all  be  comprised.  There  are  two 
things  in  question  in  this  matter,  the  unity  and  in- 
finity of  the  pure  geometrical  intuition,  and  the  unity 
and  infinity  within  concrete  experience  itself.  In  the 
former  case  we  find  it  possible  in  imagination  to  posit 
points  and  by  a  continuous  process  to  pass  from  any 
one  to  any  other.  And  as  this  process  of  positing 
points  is  endless,  and  as  all  the  points  we  can  posit 
can  be  comprised  in  the  one  scheme,  we  come  to  speak 
of  space  as  one  and  all-embracing.  But  this  is  nothing 
that  was  given  as  any  original  perception  or  intuition. 
It  arises  entirely  from  reflection  upon  the  space  law 
itself.  The  same  is  true  for  the  supposed  real  space. 
We  relate  our  objects  in  a  common  scheme  and  thus 
space  appears  to  be  one.  We  relate  all  our  objects  in 
one  and  the  same  scheme  and  thus  space  appears  to 
be  all-embracing.  Finally  the  form  of  relation  admits 
of  indefinite  reproduction  and  thus  space  appears  to 
be  infinite;  but  the  community  is  simply  the  com- 
munity of  the  law.  The  all-embracing  character  of 
space  means  simply  the  applicability  of  this  law  to 
all  external  objects.  The  infinitude  of  space  is  only 
the  inexhaustibility  of  the  spatial  synthesis.  None  of 
these  properties  is  an  adequate  perception  of  object- 
ive fact,  but  only  a  reflective  implication  of  the  space 
law. 

With  regard  to  the  space  of  concrete  experience 
the  same  fact  is  evident.  We  seldom  extend  the  spa- 

38 


SPACE 

tial  synthesis  beyond  surrounding  objects.  These 
we  relate  in  mutual  externality  and  relative  position. 
Beyond  this  we  seldom  go.  The  unity  and  infinity 
of  space  lie  latent  in  thought  and  only  emerge  upon 
occasion.  Often  we  leave  our  objects  so  unrelated 
that  they  do  not  seem  to  be  in  space  at  all.  At  other 
times  we  fail  to  relate  our  several  groups  and  seem 
to  have  several  spaces.  We  experience  something  of 
the  same  kind  in  traveling,  when  we  drop  out  the 
intermediate  links  between  the  successive  spatial 
groups.  We  believe  that  they  could  be  united  in  a 
common  space  intuition,  but  so  far  as  the  experience 
itself  goes  there  is  nothing  to  compel  it  or  even  to 
suggest  it.  For  this  there  is  needed  a  certain  con- 
tinuity in  the  experience  itself,  and  it  is  quite  con- 
ceivable, as  just  suggested,  that  our  experience  should 
have  been  such  that  we  should  never  have  united  our 
objects  in  a  common  spatial  scheme. 

While,  then,  we  may  hold  to  Kant's  general  con- 
ception of  the  a  priori  nature  of  space  and  even  to  its 
subjective  character,  we  certainly  cannot  hold  it  in 
the  form  in  which  Kant  has  presented  it  nor  for  the 
reasons  that  he  has  given.  Behind  the  representation 
of  the  infinite  void,  which  Kant  seems  at  times  to 
think  is  given,  is  a  vast  amount  of  reflective  activity 
which  does  not  represent  any  a  priori  perception, 
but  rather  an  a  priori  judgment.  In  this  use  of  the 
term  "a  priori"  Kant  is  by  no  means  clear  and  con- 
sistent. As  applied  to  judgments  a  priori  it  has  a 
definite  meaning.  It  means  not  that  the  judgment 
is  prior  to  all  experience,  but  that  it  is  not  based  upon 
experience,  its  validity  depending  upon  the  mind's 

39 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

own  insight;  but  when  applied  to  perception,  a  priori 
must  mean  prior  to  all  experience  and  in  that  case 
it  is  absurd.  There  is  no  such  a  priori  perception. 
When,  then,  Kant  speaks  of  the  a  priori  perception 
of  space  as  conditioning  all  empirical  conception  of 
individual  objects  in  space,  he  is  confused. 

The  exposition  of  the  doctrine  as  thus  given  ap- 
pears in  the  first  edition.  In  the  second  edition  the 
same  matter  with  very  slight  variation  reappears,  but 
some  new  matter  is  added.  In  the  later  edition  Kant 
distinguishes  what  he  calls  the  metaphysical  exposi- 
tion of  the  idea  of  space  and  the  transcendental  expo- 
sition of  the  idea.  The  metaphysical  exposition  is 
that  already  given.  The  transcendental  exposition  is 
something  new.  The  argument  is  based  on  the  possi- 
bility of  geometry  and  seems  to  be  really  the  argu- 
ment on  which  he  most  relies.  It  appears  in  full  in 
the  second  edition  of  the  "  Critique,"  but  also  in  the 
"Prolegomena."  He  says:  — 

"Geometry  is  a  science  which  determines  the 
properties  of  space  synthetically,  and  yet  a  priori. 
What,  then,  must  be  the  representation  of  space,  to 
render  such  a  knowledge  of  it  possible?  It  must  be 
originally  intuitive;  for  it  is  impossible  from  a  mere 
concept  to  deduce  propositions  which  go  beyond  that 
concept  as  we  do  in  geometry.  That  intuition,  how- 
ever, must  be  a  priori,  that  is,  it  must  exist  within  us 
before  any  perception  of  the  object,  and  must  there- 
fore be  pure,  not  empirical  intuition.  For  all  geo- 
metrical propositions  are  apodictic,  that  is,  connected 
with  the  consciousness  of  their  necessity,  as,  for  in- 
stance, the  proposition  that  space  has  only  three 

40 


SPACE 

dimensions;  and  such  propositions  cannot  be  empir- 
ical judgments,  nor  conclusions  from  them." 

"How,  then,  can  an  external  intuition  dwell  in  the 
mind  anterior  to  the  objects  themselves  and  in  which 
the  concept  of  objects  can  be  determined  a  priori  ? 
Evidently  not  otherwise  than  so  far  as  it  has  its  seat 
in  the  subject  only,  as  the  formal  condition  under 
which  the  subject  is  affected  by  the  objects  and 
thereby  is  receiving  an  immediate  representation, 
that  is,  intuition  of  them;  therefore  as  a  form  of  the 
external  sense  in  general. 

:<  It  is  therefore  by  our  explanation  only  that  the 
possibility  of  geometry  as  a  synthetical  science  a  priori 
becomes  intelligible.  Every  other  explanation,  which 
fails  to  account  for  this  possibility,  can  best  be  distin- 
guished from  our  own  by  that  criterion,  although  it 
may  seem  to  have  some  similarity  with  it."  (Page  728.) 

Here  Kant  assumes  the  truth  of  mathematics  and 
makes  its  possibility  depend  upon  the  doctrine  that 
space  is  the  general  form  of  our  external  sense,  and 
geometry  which  gives  the  laws  of  that  form  is  there- 
fore valid  for  all  objects  that  come  within  the  range 
of  our  external  experience.  If  we  were  asked  to  tell 
what  the  colors  of  objects  must  be  we  could  not  do  so. 
If,  however,  we  knew  that  the  eye  in  itself  prescribes 
a  certain  list  of  colors  and  that  any  class  falling  outside 
of  that  list  could  never  be  given  to  us,  we  could  then 
tell  the  limits  within  which  all  colors  in  experience 
must  lie,  because  the  ground  of  color  would  exist  not 
in  the  objects  themselves  alone,  but  also  and  more 
decisively  in  the  eye  itself.  Again,  the  objects  in  a 
kaleidoscope  might  have  various  forms  and  take  on 

41 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

various  shapes  and  we  could  not  tell  a  priori  what 
forms  and  shapes  they  may  possess,  but  if  we  know 
the  law  of  the  instrument  we  are  able  to  see  that  what- 
ever the  forms  and  shapes  may  be  in  themselves  they 
will  have  certain  qualities  due  to  the  mathematical 
nature  of  the  kaleidoscope.  Now,  in  the  same  way 
Kant  would  conceive  a  form  of  space  to  be  the  general 
law  of  our  external  sense  and  mathematics  would  be 
simply  specifications  of  that  law.  Hence  we  can  say 
that  the  laws  of  geometry  will  always  be  apodictically 
valid  for  us,  because  they  condition  our  experience 
in  its  spatial  aspect  and  hence  we  will  be  sure  of  their 
validity  for  our  experience. 

This  is  Kant's  transcendental  exposition  of  the 
idea  of  space  from  which  he  infers  its  subjectivity. 
Geometry  is  something  indisputable,  its  truths  being 
universal  and  necessary.  As  such  they  cannot  be 
gained  from  experience,  but  must  be  expressions  of 
the  nature  of  the  mind.  This  transcendental  argu- 
ment Kant  seems  to  regard  as  a  considerable  advance 
on  the  metaphysical  argument  before  given.  But 
this  argument  also  is  not  entirely  satisfactory.  We 
may  allow  that  without  affirming  the  a  priori  char- 
acter of  geometry  in  the  sense  of  being  founded  upon 
our  mental  nature,  there  could  be  no  principles  in 
mathematics.  This  is  the  truth  in  Kant's  claim.  If 
we  take  the  atomistic  and  passive  conception  of  the 
mind  held  by  Hume,  it  is  clear  that  such  a  mind 
would  have  no  logical  right  to  faith  in  anything.  It 
must  be  therefore  purely  descriptive  and  recitative, 
telling  what  it  has  found  in  past  experience,  but 
utterly  unable  to  prescribe  or  tell  what  must  be  true 

42 


SPACE 

for  all  experience  everywhere  and  always.  Empiri- 
cism of  this  type,  then,  is  fatal  to  all  knowledge, 
higher  and  lower  alike,  though  it  seems  more  fatal 
to  moral  and  spiritual  insight  than  to  ordinary  and 
scientific  notions.  It  reduces  the  mind  to  a  mere  im- 
potency  which  may  not  prescribe  anything  and  can 
at  best  only  be  the  servant  of  sense  and  passion.  It 
is  this  conception  of  empiricism  that  made  it  such  a 
solvent  of  all  higher  faiths  and  such  a  servant  of 
sense  and  sensualism.  It  is  this  fact  that  explains 
the  hostility  which  has  always  been  felt  by  earnest 
and  thoughtful  persons  for  the  doctrine.  The  a  priori 
doctrine,  then,  is  a  negative  condition  of  geomet- 
rical truth,  but  this  view  might  be  held  without 
establishing  geometrical  truth  on  a  firm  foundation; 
for  the  question  would  still  arise,  What  warrant  have 
we  for  saying  that  the  a  priori  utterances  of  the 
mind  are  forever  valid  or  even  that  they  are  valid  at 
all?  There  seems  to  be  no  reason  for  saying  that  a 
thing  is  certainly  true  because  it  is  a  priori,  for  it  is 
still  possible  that  the  a  priori  element  may  belong  to 
error  or  that  it  might  undergo  change,  and  the  only 
reply  to  this  would  be  that  the  mind  must  at  least 
have  faith  in  itself  and  its  own  rational  insight,  no 
matter  what  we  call  it.  We  must  of  course  refrain 
from  views  that  would  undermine  this  faith,  but  even 
then  we  come  at  last  to  a  point  where  we  have  to  fall 
back  on  the  mind's  own  trust  in  itself.  The  a  priori 
character  of  knowledge,  then,  is  not  decisive.  It  is  a 
negative  condition,  but  for  positive  knowledge  we 
have  to  fall  back  on  our  rational  insight.  In  the  case 
of  mathematics  we  fall  back  on  our  insight  into  the 

43 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

nature  of  space  and  number  and  not  upon  any  partic- 
ular theory  of  knowledge.  The  old  empirical  doctrine 
would  indeed  make  mathematics  impossible,  that  is, 
it  would  undermine  our  confidence  in  mathematics; 
but  our  confidence  in  any  case  does  not  depend  upon 
our  theory  of  knowledge,  but  entirely  upon  the  insight 
we  possess  into  the  spatial  and  numerical  intuition. 
Kant  himself  would  hardly  claim  that  geometry  was 
any  more  firmly  established  after  his  transcendental 
exposition  of  the  idea  of  space  than  it  was  before. 
Kant's  further  conclusion,  as  a  result  of  his  transcend- 
ental exposition,  that  space  is  subjective  and  rela- 
tive to  ourselves,  is  something  which  is  groundless; 
but  this  point  will  come  up  for  later  discussion. 

It  seems  then  that  Kant's  a  priori  conception  of 
space  helps  us  to  mathematics  only  in  a  partial  way. 
In  so  far  as  it  rejects  the  mere  passivity  of  empiricism 
it  is  on  the  right  road,  but  when  it  rests  its  positive 
confidence  on  apriorism  it  does  not  seem  to  be  entirely 
satisfactory,  and  all  the  more  so  because  Kant  him- 
self goes  on  to  restrict  geometrical  truth  to  the  limits 
of  human  experience  and  denies  it  to  things  in  them- 
selves. But  if  we  allow  that  the  mind  has  at  least 
some  power  to  know,  there  seems  to  be  no  good  rea- 
son why  the  mind  might  not  have  insight  into  space 
relations  as  things  in  themselves,  if  there  were  any 
reason  for  thinking  that  space  is  a  thing  in  itself.  The 
mere  fact  that  space  is  a  thing  which  we  do  not  make 
but  find,  ought  not  to  make  our  knowledge  of  it  im- 
possible, any  more  than  the  same  fact  with  respect 
to  our  neighbors  prohibits  our  knowing  something 
about  them.  The  fact  that  space  is  a  law  of  thought 

44 


SPACE 

does  not  forbid  that  it  should  also  be  a  law  of  things. 
There  is  nothing  whatever  in  what  Kant  has  of- 
fered thus  far  to  forbid  our  thinking  that  space  is  at 
once  a  law  of  thought  and  also  a  form  of  reality,  so 
that  it  shall  be  both  subjective  and  objective.  And 
this  looks  so  much  like  the  plain  indication  of  experi- 
ence that  it  would  have  to  be  accepted  unless  some 
reasons  were  found  for  limiting  space  to  purely  sub- 
jective validity.  Such  reasons  could  be  found  only 
in  the  contradictions  or  impossibilities  that  emerge 
when  space  is  taken  to  be  a  real  thing  in  itself.  All 
that  is  done  by  Kant  in  this  direction  is  given  in  the 
two  first  antinomies,  where  the  only  question  raised 
is  that  concerning  the  finitude  or  infinitude  of  the 
world  in  space  and  time.  The  other  and  deeper  diffi- 
culties in  the  case  Kant  nowhere  develops. 

We  must  say,  then,  that  Kant's  doctrine  of  space 
in  relation  to  geometry  is  very  far  from  satisfactory, 
and  it  is  still  less  satisfactory  in  its  general  relation  to 
knowledge.  We  have  before  pointed  out  that  know- 
ledge is  conditioned  partly  by  the  subject  and  partly 
by  the  object,  and  have  said  that  Kant  was  very  right 
in  emphasizing  the  conditions  that  lie  in  the  nature 
of  the  subject.  The  mind  that  is  to  know  nature  must 
be  able  to  rebuild  nature  in  thought,  and  it  can  do 
that  only  as  it  contains  the  principles  of  nature  within 
itself  as  immanent  laws  of  its  own  procedure.  But  this 
fact  must  not  lead  us  to  forget  that  the  object  also 
is  equally  an  important  factor  in  knowing,  for  if 
we  suppose  that  the  movements  of  thought  and  its 
constructive  principles  lie  in  no  way  parallel  to  the 
system  of  objects  and  the  relations  which  obtain 

45 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

among  them,  we  are  landed  forthwith  in  solipsism 
and  the  object  disappears  altogether;  and  not  only 
the  object,  but  the  neighbors,  equally  disappear,  for 
we  succeed  in  reaching  the  existence  of  our  neigh- 
bors only  through  the  same  constructive  activity  of 
thought;  and  if  we  will  not  allow  that  this  activity 
truly  grasps  things  and  relations  existing  apart  from 
it,  then  solipsism  is  the  immediate  result.  As  we  shall 
later  see,  this  point  has  been  entirely  overlooked  by 
Kant.  He  has  a  world  of  things  in  themselves  of 
whose  existence  he  appears  to  have  no  doubt,  but 
which  he  thinks  we  can  never  know;  and  then  he  pro- 
ceeds to  deal  with  these  things  in  such  a  fashion  as 
to  make  them  utterly  empty,  without  any  contents 
whatever.  And  this  is  true  not  merely  of  the  world 
of  things,  but  also  and  equally  of  the  world  of  persons. 
But  we  postpone  the  discussion  of  this  point  to  a  later 
chapter.  It  suffices  here  to  refer  to  the  matter  and  to 
point  out  that  the  doctrine  is  left  in  very  considerable 
confusion.  As  we  have  said  before,  we  may  hold  that 
space  is  simply  the  form  of  experience,  but  we  must 
hold  it  for  reasons  different  from  what  Kant  gives 
and  must  also  hold  it  in  a  somewhat  different  form 
from  that  which  he  offers. 

Time 

Kant's  doctrine  of  time  is  very  similar  to  that  of 
space.  It  is  not  an  empirical  concept  deduced  from 
experience,  but  is  a  necessary  representation  on  which 
all  intuitions  depend.  It  is,  too,  not  a  general  concept, 
but  a  pure  form  of  sensuous  intuition,  and  the  original 
representation  of  time  must  be  given  as  unlimited. 

46 


TIME 

Much  the  same  may  be  said  with  respect  to  this 
that  was  said  with  respect  to  space.  It  is  not-  true 
that  time  is  given  originally  as  infinite  and  one,  and 
it  is  not  true  that  it  is  primarily  a  representation  or 
perception  at  all.  The  time  experience  arises  not 
through  any  limitation  of  the  original  perception  of 
infinite  time,  but  solely  through  the  relation  of  the 
elements  of  experience  to  self  and  to  one  another 
under  the  temporal  form.  That  is,  the  basal  fact  is  a 
law  of  relation  in  the  mind,  and  the  properties  of  time 
are  to  be  understood  from  the  side  of  this  relating 
act.  As  all  events  are  related  by  the  same  law  and  in 
a  given  scheme,  time  is  said  to  be  one.  The  unity 
consists  entirely  in  the  fact  of  a  single  system  of  rela- 
tions according  to  the  same  law,  so  that  from  any 
point  whatever  in  the  system  we  can  find  our  way  to 
any  other  by  a  continuous  process.  If  there  were  any 
events  which  could  not  be  related  in  one  scheme,  time 
would  not  be  one;  but  as  no  event  can  be  conceived 
which  cannot  thus  be  related,  time  is  not  only  one, 
it  is  also  infinite  and  all-embracing.  But  the  unity 
and  infinity  of  time  are  only  consequences  of  the  fact 
that  the  law  of  synthesis  is  one  and  extends  to  all 
events.  Ordinarily  we  do  not  extend  the  temporal 
synthesis  beyond  adjacent  events.  We  give  these  the 
relation  of  antecedence  and  sequence,  and  ignore  their 
relation  to  other  events  or  groups  of  events.  The 
unity  and  infinity  of  time  commonly  lie  latent  in  the 
background  of  our  thought.  Here,  then,  as  in  the 
case  of  space,  we  do  not  believe  in  the  original  ap- 
prehension of  the  unity  and  infinity  of  time,  for  this 
apprehension  is  consequent  and  not  first.  The  basal 

47 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

fact  is  the  law  of  temporal  synthesis  whereby  the 
concrete  temporal  experience  is  made  possible,  and 
then  by  reflection  on  the  nature  of  the  time  law  we 
come  to  affirm  its  unity  and  infinitude. 

As  geometry  is  the  science  of  space,  so  for  Kant 
arithmetic  is  the  science  of  time.  There  is  something 
a  little  arbitrary  in  restricting  arithmetic  to  time, 
and  it  was  apparently  done  out  of  Kant's  love  of 
system;  for  the  really  important  thing  in  arithmetic 
is  number,  and  the  important  thing  in  number  is 
the  discriminability  of  things  and  events,  whether  in 
space  or  in  time.  However,  Kant  makes  number  the 
science  of  time,  and  founds  the  possibility  of  arith- 
metic upon  the  a  priori  character  of  time  as  the  form 
of  the  internal  sense,  as  space  is  the  form  of  the 
external  sense. 

Here  again  the  previous  criticism  of  the  founda- 
tion of  geometry  must  be  repeated.  Without  some 
a  priori  insight  of  the  mind  there  could  be  no  science 
of  arithmetic;  but  after  all  it  depends  more  upon  the 
insight  than  upon  its  a  priori  character,  the  a  priori 
element  being,  as  we  have  said,  only  of  negative  use 
in  excluding  the  passive  doctrine  of  mind  which  Hume 
held  and  the  implications  of  that  doctrine. 

As  to  the  subjectivity  of  time  or  its  non-applica- 
bility to  things  in  themselves,  Kant  is  even  less  satis- 
factory than  he  is  in  treating  of  the  subjectivity  of 
space,  as  indeed  the  doctrine  is  more  difficult  when 
applied  to  time.  We  have  in  a  fashion  a  certain  ex- 
perience of  non-spatial  facts  in  the  inner  life,  but  we 
have  no  such  experience  of  non-temporality.  So  far 
as  Kant's  argument  goes  it  is  entirely  possible  for 

48 


TIME 

us  to  believe  that  time  is  an  a  priori  element  in  know- 
ing, and  at  the  same  time  to  hold  that  it  is  likewise 
a  veritable  fact  in  the  objective  movement  of  reality. 
In  general  the  ideality  of  time  is  a  more  difficult 
doctrine  than  the  ideality  of  space,  because  we  have 
in  our  inner  life  some  illustration  of  non-spatial 
experience,  while  the  time  relation  enters  into  con- 
sciousness itself.  We  have,  then,  no  illustration  what- 
ever of  a  timeless  experience,  while  we  do  have 
illustrations  of  a  spaceless  one.  On  this  account  the 
objection  was  very  early  made  to  the  ideality  of  time, 
that  whether  external  changes  are  denied  or  not,  we 
are  certainly  conscious  of  change  in  our  own  mental 
states  and  the  change  in  these  states  presupposes 
change  in  the  external  ground.  Since,  then,  we  are 
conscious  of  change  in  our  own  mental  states,  the 
idea  of  time  is  given  as  a  fact  which  can  in  no  way  be 
escaped.  Kant  replies  to  this  by  saying  that  time  is 
subjectively  real  or  empirically  real,  but  it  is  not  real 
for  things  in  themselves.  He  in  no  way,  however, 
succeeds  in  showing  how  this  distinction  can  be  main- 
tained. Change  can  never  be  eliminated  from  the 
world  of  experience,  and  this  world  of  experience  can 
never  be  in  any  way  looked  upon  as  a  manifestation 
of  a  changeless  order  beyond  it.  Hence  change  is 
real,  and  if  the  reality  of  change  implied  the  reality 
of  time,  time  also  is  real,  not  merely  for  our  experience 
but  for  things  in  themselves.  Kant  never  adequately 
considered  this  difficulty,  and  indeed  it  cannot  be 
solved  upon  the  impersonal  plane  at  all.  We  must 
carry  the  question  of  time  up  into  the  field  of  self- 
consciousness,  and  discern  its  relativity  and  in  what 

49 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

a  possible  timelessness  would  consist.  But  this  ques- 
tion we  reserve  for  later  discussion  when  we  come  to 
consider  Kant's  general  doctrine  of  phenomena  and 
things  in  themselves. 

So  much  for  Kant's  general  doctrine  of  the  sensi- 
bility and  its  forms,  space  and  time.  As  already 
pointed  out,  many  objections  could  be  made  to  the 
order  in  which  Kant  puts  the  doctrine,  and  especially 
to  the  utterances  here  and  there  where  he  seems  to 
assume  that  the  sensibility  as  such  can  give  us  the 
world  of  spatial  and  temporal  perceptions.  Of  course 
this  is  not  the  case,  as  Kant  himself  clearly  recog- 
nizes later  on.  Perception,  as  he  says,  is  possible 
only  through  various  functions  of  the  understanding 
whereby  a  spatial  phenomenon  becomes  something 
definite  for  us.  To  recur  to  our  illustration  of  the 
moving  body,  we  cannot  say  that  we  see  the  body 
move  merely  on  the  basis  of  what  can  be  sensuously 
presented,  for  we  have  precisely  the  same  sense  affec- 
tion and  sense  phenomena  in  the  case  of  moving 
pictures  that  we  have  in  the  case  of  a  moving  body. 
In  the  latter  case,  then,  evidently  something  has  been 
added  to  sense,  namely,  an  interpretation  of  the  sense 
impression,  a  working-over  of  it  into  the  forms  of  the 
understanding.  We  are  therefore  to  regard  the  sensi- 
bility and  the  understanding  as  different  aspects  of 
our  mental  life,  and  not  as  things  which  can  go  on  in 
complete  separation  from  one  another.  The  distinc- 
tion between  them,  however,  is  important  for  the 
understanding  of  our  mental  life.  Whatever  we  call 
the  sensibility  or  whatever  our  psychological  classi- 
fication of  it  may  be,  it  is  in  any  case  something  with- 

50 


TIME 

out  which  thought  remains  formal  and  empty.  We 
get  perceptions  only  through  modifications  of  the 
sensibility,  and  apart  from  these  we  have  nothing  but 
formal  conceptions,  which  as  such  have  no  contents, 
as  would  be  the  case  when  we  speak  of  a  kind  of 
sensation  lying  beyond  the  ordinary  five  senses.  We 
can  speak  of  such  sensations,  but  they  will  be  no  real 
experience  and  therefore  are  only  forms  of  words. 

The  distinction  between  a  space  and  time  world 
and  the  world  of  the  understanding  is  very  convenient 
also  in  the  exposition  of  our  problems.  The  space 
and  time  world  admits  of  description  in  terms  of 
coexistence  and  succession  without  making  any  deep 
excursion  into  metaphysics.  As  in  the  case  of  our 
moving  pictures  we  could  name  and  describe  the 
orders  of  coexistence  and  sequence  without  taking 
account  of  the  metaphysical  elements  involved  in 
the  realities  they  may  be  supposed  to  represent,  so 
in  the  space  and  time  world  of  experience  there  is  a 
large  amount  that  can  be  described  in  terms  of  coex- 
istence and  sequence  of  phenomena  without  passing 
to  the  unpicturable  notions  of  the  understanding. 
The  former  realm  belongs  to  descriptive  science,  the 
latter  realm  to  philosophical  interpretation;  and  by 
keeping  the  two  quite  distinct  we  tend  to  greater 
clearness  both  in  science  and  in  speculation.  We 
might  all  agree  as  to  the  space  and  time  order,  and 
might  differ  widely  in  our  conception  of  the  meta- 
physical system  by  which  that  order  is  to  be  explained. 
We  now  pass  to  the  work  of  the  understanding  or  the 
forms  of  thought. 


II 

TRANSCENDENTAL   LOGIC 

IN  the  introduction  to  this  section  Kant  gives  the 
general  distinction  between  the  work  of  the  sensibil- 
ity and  the  work  of  the  understanding  which  we  have 
before  quoted.  Through  the  sensibility  we  receive 
impressions  and  are  connected  with  reality.  Kant 
speaks  of  the  sensibility  as  the  "receptivity  of  the 
soul."  The  understanding,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  reac- 
tion against  the  affections  of  the  sensibility.  He  calls 
it  "the  power  of  producing  representations  or  the 
spontaneity  of  knowledge."  Neither  of  these  qualities 
or  faculties  is  preferable  to  the  other  and  neither  can 
dispense  with  the  other;  for,  as  we  have  before  quoted, 
"thoughts  without  contents  are  empty;  intuitions 
without  concepts  are  blind."  The  sense  impression 
without  the  form  of  the  understanding  is  no  articu- 
late apprehension  whatever,  and  the  work  of  the 
understanding  without  the  sense  impression  is  itself 
without  material,  moving  through  the  air  without 
an  object.  The  understanding,  then,  reacts  upon  the 
sense  impression,  forms  it  and  lifts  it  up  into  articu- 
late conception,  and  only  thus  do  we  attain  to  any 
definite  knowledge.  It  should  be  pointed  out  also  that 
this  work  of  the  understanding  is  equally  necessary  to 
articulate  perception.  At  the  beginning  Kant  is  not 
clear  enough  on  this  point  and  speaks  of  objects  as 
given  us  in  perception,  giving  the  impression  that 


TRANSCENDENTAL  LOGIC 

perception  may  be  complete  in  itself  without  the  work 
of  the  understanding.  But  whatever  Kant's  thought 
in  the  case  was,  there  is  no  question  nowadays  that 
perception  itself,  even  of  a  sensation,  by  the  time  it  is 
anything  articulate  for  intellect,  undergoes  the  form- 
ative activity  of  the  understanding.  We  have  before 
referred  to  this  fact  in  connection  with  the  simpler 
sensations  or  recurrent  sensations  of  different  sorts. 
So  then  once  more  we  are  not  to  think  that  the  sense 
experience,  even  in  its  lowest  forms,  can  go  on  apart 
from  the  activity  of  the  understanding. 

Kant  distinguishes  general  logic  from  transcend- 
ental logic.  The  former  means  simply  the  traditional 
logic  of  the  syllogistic  type,  which  takes  no  account 
of  the  contents  of  knowledge  and  treats  of  nothing  but 
the  mere  form  of  reasoning.  Transcendental  logic,  on 
the  other  hand,  does  not  entirely  ignore  the  contents 
of  knowledge.  It  always  treats  of  the  origin  of  our 
knowledge  so  far  as  it  has  an  a  priori  character.  This 
science  which  has  to  determine  the  origin,  the  extent, 
and  the  objective  validity  of  our  a  priori  knowledge 
he  calls  transcendental  logic.  It  is  then  essentially  an 
inquiry  into  the  nature  and  conditions  of  our  a  priori 
knowledge.  This  transcendental  logic  is  further  di- 
vided into  transcendental  analytic  and  dialectic. 

"  In  transcendental  logic,"  he  says,  "we  isolate  the 
understanding,  as  before  in  transcendental  aesthetic 
the  sensibility,  and  fix  our  attention  on  that  part 
of  thought  only  which  has  its  origin  entirely  in  the 
understanding.  The  application  of  this  pure  know- 
ledge has  for  its  condition  that  objects  are  given  in 
intuition,  to  which  it  can  be  applied,  for  without 

53 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

intuition  all  our  knowledge  would  be  without  objects, 
and  it  would  therefore  remain  entirely  empty.  That 
part  of  transcendental  logic,  therefore,  which  teaches 
the  elements  of  the  pure  knowledge  of  the  under- 
standing, and  the  principles  without  which  no  object 
can  be  thought,  is  transcendental  Analytic,  and  at 
the  same  time  a  logic  of  truth.  No  knowledge  can 
contradict  it  without  losing  at  the  same  time  all  con- 
tents, that  is,  all  relation  to  any  object,  and  there- 
fore all  truth.  But  as  it  is  very  tempting  to  use  this 
pure  knowledge  of  the  understanding  and  its  prin- 
ciples by  themselves,  and  even  beyond  the  limits  of 
all  experience,  which  alone  can  supply  the  material 
or  the  objects  to  which  those  pure  concepts  of  the 
understanding  can  be  applied,  the  understanding  runs 
the  risk  of  making,  through  mere  sophisms,  a  material 
use  of  the  purely  formal  principles  of  the  pure  under- 
standing, and  thus  of  judging  indiscriminatingly  of 
objects  which  are  not  given  to  us,  nay,  perhaps  can 
never  be  given.  As  it  is  properly  meant  to  be  a  mere 
canon  for  criticizing  the  empirical  use  of  the  under- 
standing, it  is  a  real  abuse  if  it  is  allowed  as  an  or- 
ganum  of  its  general  and  unlimited  application,  by 
our  venturing,  with  the  pure  understanding  alone, 
to  judge  synthetically  of  objects  in  general  or  to 
affirm  and  decide  anything  about  them.  In  this  case 
the  employment  of  the  pure  understanding  would 
become  dialectical. 

"The  second  part  of  transcendental  logic  must 
therefore  form  a  critique  of  that  dialectical  semblance 
and  is  called  transcendental  Dialectic,  not  as  an  art 
of  producing  dogmatically  such  semblance  (an  art 

54 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC 

but  too  popular  with  many  metaphysical  jugglers), 
but  as  a  critique  of  the  understanding  and  reason 
with  regard  to  their  hyperphysical  employment,  in 
order  thus  to  lay  bare  the  false  semblance  of  its 
groundless  pretensions,  and  to  reduce  its  claims  to 
discovery  and  expansion,  which  was  to  be  achieved 
by  means  of  transcendental  principles  only,  to  a  mere 
critique,  serving  as  a  protection  of  the  pure  under- 
standing against  all  sophistical  illusions."  (Page  49.) 
We  are  here  introduced  to  Kant's  distinction  be- 
tween the  understanding  and  the  reason.  The  under- 
standing has  the  function  of  working  over  sense  ma- 
terial into  the  forms  of  articulate  experience.  It  does 
this  by  virtue  of  principles  immanent  in  itself  which 
Kant  calls  the  categories,  but  the  field  of  application 
of  these  categories  is  also  and  only  that  of  sense  im- 
pression. In  this  way  the  material  of  sense  becomes 
articulate  experience,  and  in  this  field  the  understand- 
ing finds  its  true  and  proper  function.  When  it  ven- 
tures beyond  this  it  then  loses  contact  with  reality 
and  falls  a  prey  to  multitudinous  illusions.  This  is 
the  dialectic  of  the  pure  reason,  that  is  of  the  under- 
standing, when  it  ventures  beyond  its  realm. 

Transcendental  Analytic 

This  section  discusses  first  the  concepts,  and  sec- 
ond the  principles  of  the  pure  understanding.  The 
concepts  are  the  categories  according  to  which  the 
understanding  proceeds,  and  the  principles  deal  with 
these  concepts  as  applied  to  the  building-up  of  the 
system  of  knowledge. 

The  first  thing  is  to  discover  the  pure  concepts  of 

55 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

the  understanding.  And  since  all  knowledge  consists 
in  the  form  of  a  judgment,  Kant  thinks  by  analyzing 
the  forms  of  judgment  to  find  the  ideas  according 
to  which  it  proceeds.  In  order  to  lead  up  to  this  he 
defines  the  understanding  as  the  faculty  of  judging, 
and  concludes  that  "the  functions  of  the  understand- 
ing can  be  discovered  in  their  completeness  if  it  is 
possible  to  represent  the  functions  of  unity  in  judg- 
ments." Here  Kant  has  recourse  to  the  table  of  judg- 
ments given  in  the  traditional  formal  logic  as  some- 
thing readymade  to  his  hand.  There  are  four  classes 
of  these  judgments. 

Table  of  Judgments 
I  II 

Quantity  of  Judgments  Quality 

Universal  Affirmative 

Particular  Negative 

Singular  Infinite 

III  IV 

Relation  Modality 

Categorical  Problematical 

Hypothetical  Assertory 

Disjunctive  Apodictic 

From  this  table  of  judgments  Kant  deduces  the  fol- 
lowing table  of  categories:  — 

Table  of  Categories 
I  II 

Of  Quantity  Of  Quality 

Unity  Reality 

Plurality  Negation 

Totality  Limitation 
56 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC 

III  IV 

Of  Relation  Of  Modality 

Inherence  and  Subsistence  Possibility      Impossibility 

(substantia  et  accidens)  Existence       Non-existence 

Of  Causality  and  Dependence          Necessity       Contingency 
(cause  and  effect) 

Of  Community  (reciprocity 
between  the  active  and  the 
passive) 

It  is  by  no  means  easy  to  follow  Kant  in  the  details 
of  this  discovery,  or  as  he  later  calls  it,  "the  meta- 
physical deduction  of  the  categories."  He  says,  "All 
judgments  are  functions  of  unity  among  our  repre- 
sentations, the  knowledge  of  an  object  being  brought 
about,  not  by  an  immediate  representation,  but  by 
a  higher  one  comprehending  this  and  several  others, 
so  that  many  possible  cognitions  are  collected  into 
one,"  (Page  57.)  It  is  hard  to  find  the  way  in  which 
this  conception  of  the  judgment  as  essentially  a  func- 
tion of  unity  among  our  representations  enables  us 
to  pass  from  the  table  of  judgments  to  the  particular 
categories  which  Kant  enumerates.  But  not  to  insist 
upon  this  in  a  general  way,  we  may  follow  the  expo- 
sition given  by  Professor  Watson, in  his  "Philosophy 
of  Kant  Explained,"  as  being  the  most  satisfactory  and 
sympathetic  account  of  the  matter.  "  In  such  a  judg- 
ment as,  'Man  is  mortal,'  the  quantity  is  said  to  be 
universal,  because  the  predicate  '  mortal,'  is  affirmed 
of  every  member  of  the  class  'man.'  The  category 
corresponding  to  this  subsumption  of  all  individuals 
under  one  conception  must  be  totality.  No  doubt  the 
universal  is  not  an  abstract  idea,  but  a  combination 

57 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

of  perceptual  elements,  nevertheless  the  function  of 
thought  will  be  fundamentally  the  same.  A  particular 
judgment,  such  as,  '  Some  men  are  wise,'  divides  up 
the  abstract  conception  into  its  logical  parts,  and  the 
corresponding  category  will  therefore  be  a  number  of 
separate  perceptual  elements  regarded  as  several  or 
manifold.  The  category  then  is  plurality.  In  the 
singular  judgment,  such  as,  *  Socrates  is  a  man,'  we 
are  not  dealing  with  a  general  or  abstract  conception, 
but  rather  with  an  individual.  In  the  analytic  judg- 
ment no  distinction  is  made  between  the  singular 
and  the  universal  judgment,  because  the  predicate 
is  affirmed  of  the  subject  without  qualification.  But, 
argues  Kant,  the  function  of  unity  presupposed  in  the 
singular  judgment  must  be  made  explicit  when  we 
are  dealing  with  synthetic  judgments,  because  here 
we  have  to  see  the  object  in  the  making,  so  to  speak. 
Hence  the  function  of  thought  implied  in  this  form 
of  judgment  is  unity.  Taking  the  categories  in  the 
reverse  order,  Kant  enumerates  the  categories  of 
quantity  as  unity,  plurality,  and  totality." 

In  judgments  of  quality  the  "function  presupposed 
in  the  affirmative  judgment  is  the  determination  of 
an  object  of  perception  as  a  reality.  The  negative 
judgment  must  yield,  when  it  is  interpreted  from  the 
synthetic  point  of  view,  the  category  of  non-reality  or 
negation.  Negation,  it  must  be  observed,  is  not  the 
mere  absence  of  reality,  but  the  negation  of  a  certain 
given  or  limited  reality.  Then,  lastly,  the  infinite  judg- 
ment which  excludes  a  conception  from  one  sphere 
and  puts  it  into  another, yields  the  category  of  limita- 
tion, which  is  just  a  synthesis  of  reality  and  negation." 

58 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC 

In  relation  a  category  "affirms  directly  or  without 
limitation.  Now,  when  we  are  dealing  with  actual 
objects  of  experience,  simple  or  unconditional  predi- 
cation must  consist  in  attributing  properties  to  a 
substance;  hence  our  category  is  inherence  and  sub- 
sistence." In  the  hypothetical  judgment  a  predicate 
is  not  affirmed  without  qualification,  but  only  under 
condition.  "Now  when  we  are  dealing  with  actual 
objects  of  experience,  conditionality,  or  the  depend- 
ence of  one  element  upon  another,  must  take  the 
form  of  real  dependence,"  giving  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect.  "In  the  disjunctive  judgment,  which 
takes  the  form  'A  is  either  B  or  C,'  we  have  a  whole  of 
conception,  together  with  subordinate  conceptions, 
which  in  their  totality  constitute  the  whole.  .  .  .  When 
this  principle  of  the  reciprocal  exclusiveness  of  two 
conceptions  which  together  constitute  a  totality  is 
applied  to  real  objects  of  experience,  we  must  have 
the  mutual  exclusion  and  yet  relation  of  real  sub- 
stances, and  this  is  the  category  of  community  or 
reciprocal  causation." 

"  The  first  form  of  the  modal  judgment  is  the  pro- 
blematic. .  .  .  When  this  principle  is  applied  to  pos- 
sible objects  of  experience,  we  get  the  categories  of 
possibility  and  impossibility.  The  assertoric  judg- 
ment, again,  asserts  a  connection  of  ideas  without 
any  limitation.  The  function  of  thought  in  the  syn- 
thetic judgment  will,  therefore,  be  the  comprehension 
of  a  real  object  of  experience  as  existing  or  not  exist- 
ing. .  .  .  The  category,  then,  is  existence  and  non- 
existence.  Lastly,  the  apodictic  judgment  asserts  the 
absolutely  necessary  connection  of  two  conceptions; 

59 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

that  is,  its  principle  is  that  two  given  conceptions 
must  necessarily  be  thought  as  correlative.  And 
when  we  apply  this  principle  to  objects  of  experience, 
we  get  the  categories  of  necessity  and  contingency, 
meaning  by  necessity  the  necessity  of  an  object  of 
experience,  and  by  contingency  the  denial  of  such 
necessity." 

This  is  the  gist  of  Professor  Watson's  explanation 
of  the  deduction  of  the  categories  from  the  table  of 
judgments.  He  adds:  "By  following  the  guiding 
thread  of  the  forms  of  judgment,  as  tabulated  by 
general  logic,  we  have  thus  been  enabled  to  discover 
the  pure  conceptions  of  the  understanding,  and  to 
discover  all  of  them.  These  pure  conceptions  are  the 
functions  of  unity  constitutive  of  the  very  nature  of 
understanding;  without  which,  therefore,  no  know- 
ledge of  objects  of  experience  can  be  obtained;  and 
we  may  have  perfect  confidence  in  the  validity  of  our 
derivation,  because  the  list  of  conceptions  has  not 
been  picked  up  empirically,  but  has  been  derived  from 
a  single  principle,  namely,  the  faculty  of  judgment." 1 

Kant  himself  seemed  to  think  very  highly  of  this 
deduction.  He  says:  "The  classification  is  system- 
atical, and  founded  on  a  common  principle,  namely, 
the  faculty  of  judging  (which  is  the  same  as  the  fac- 
ulty of  thinking).  It  is  not  the  result  of  a  search  after 
pure  concepts  undertaken  at  haphazard,  the  com- 
pleteness of  which,  as  based  on  induction  only,  could 
never  be  guaranteed.  Nor  could  we  otherwise  under- 
stand why  these  concepts  only,  and  no  others,  abide 
in  the  pure  understanding.  It  was  an  enterprise 
1  Philosophy  of  Kant  Explained,  p.  128. 
60 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC 

worthy  of  an  acute  thinker  like  Aristotle  to  try  to 
discover  these  fundamental  concepts;  but  as  he  had 
no  guiding  principle  he  merely  picked  them  up  as 
they  occurred  to  him."  (Page  67.) 

Kant,  then,  seems  to  regard  himself  as  having  had 
a  guiding  principle  which  has  enabled  him  to  dis- 
cover the  complete  table  of  the  pure  concepts  of  the 
understanding.  Nevertheless  it  is  not  possible  to  feel 
the  satisfaction  which  Kant  himself  apparently  felt. 
Some  of  his  categories  are  doubtful,  and  some  other 
categories  quite  as  important  as  those  he  has  given 
are  left  unmentioned.  If  his  aim  had  been  to  show 
that  there  are  rational  categories  underlying  judg- 
ments, without  insisting  upon  calling  this  a  deduc- 
tion from  the  nature  of  the  judgment  and  from  the 
table  of  judgments  in  formal  logic,  his  table  might 
be  allowed  to  stand;  but  as  it  is,  we  really  have 
nothing  that  can  be  called  a  deduction,  and  the  rela- 
tion of  the  real  categories  to  the  table  of  judgments 
is  certainly  highly  artificial.  In  formal  logic  proper 
we  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  individuals  of  per- 
ception, but  only  with  the  subordination  of  individ- 
uals to  a  class  or  of  lower  classes  to  higher  ones.  But 
for  the  metaphysical  purpose  which  Kant  has  in  view 
these  judgments  are  neither  first  nor  fundamental. 
The  singular  judgment  of  perception,  whereby  the 
mind  really  gets  articulate  objects,  is  something  that 
does  not  belong  to  formal  logic  at  all.  The  mere 
subsumption  of  individuals  under  a  class  term,  with 
which  formal  logic  concerns  itself,  will  never  give  us 
the  individual  causes  of  perception  with  their  meta- 
physical unities  and  their  relations  of  substance  and 

61 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

r 

attribute;  and  it  is  these  things  which  Kant  especially 
needs  to  find.  The  judgment  of  perception  is  one 
which  really  takes  place  according  to  the  categories, 
but  it  is  one  for  which  the  traditional  formal  logic 
makes  no  provision.  It  hardly  seems  too  much  to 
say,  then,  that  the  judgments  which  Kant  adduces  as 
the  source  of  the  categories  are  not  the  judgments 
which  really  give  the  categories.  In  the  singular 
judgment  or  the  judgment  of  perception,  the  mind  does 
proceed  by  the  categories  of  substance  and  attribute, 
of  unity  and  identity,  etc.,  and  thus  and  thus  only 
does  it  reach  the  singular  individual  things  on  which 
our  metaphysical  system  is  based.  But  the  mere 
subject  and  predicate  of  formal  logic  are  very  far 
from  identical  with  the  relation  of  substance  and 
attribute,  especially  as  the  subject  and  predicate  in 
formal  logic  merely  include  either  individuals  in  a 
class,  or  classes  in  another  class,  and  expressly  aim 
to  exclude  all  metaphysical  thought  whatever.  The 
unity  also,  and  the  quantity  which  formal  logic  deals 
with,  are  not  metaphysical  unities.  [They  have  to  do 
simply  with  the  relation  of  one  or  more  or  all  of  a  set 
of  individuals  to  a  class],  and  this  is  not  a  metaphysical 
unity  such  as  is  involved  in  the  relation  of  substance 
and  attribute,  etc.  At  all  events,  it  is  quite  as  possible 
to  reach  the  categories  by  direct  observation  of  the 
singular  judgments,  or  of  the  activity  of  the  mind  in 
articulate  perception,  as  it  is  in  this  roundabout  way 
through  the  formal  judgment  of  quantity  and  quality. 
Similarly  with  the  categories  of  relation.  It  is  a 
somewhat  obscure  passage  from  the  hypothetical  and 
disjunctive  judgment  to  causality  and  interaction. 

62 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC 

The  necessity  of  affirming  causal  action  is  much  more 
directly  and  clearly  seen  by  observing  the  orders  of 
succession  and  concomitant  variation  in  experience 
than  by  any  study  of  the  formal  judgments  in  ques- 
tion; and  as  commonly  used,  these  judgments  do  not 
involve  any  dynamic  relations.  Thus  I  may  say  all 
triangles  are  either  acute,  rectangular,  or  oblique; 
but  this  does  not  imply  that  these  three  classes  are  in 
reciprocal  dynamic  interaction.  In  other  words,  the 
hypothetical  and  disjunctive  judgment  oftentimes 
expresses  cases  where  causality  and  interaction  are  in 
play,  but  in  its  general  use  as  such  it  does  not  express 
any  dynamic  relation  among  things.  Hence  the  cate- 
gory of  causation  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  hypothet- 
ical and  disjunctive  judgment  as  such,  but  only  in 
particular  cases,  and  in  those  cases  we  discover  the 
category  without  regard  to  the  judgment.  We  may  • 
say,  therefore,  that  a  study  of  actual  judgments  does 
reveal  that  the  mind  proceeds  according  to  certain 
conceptions  which  we  may  call  categories,  but  it 
reveals  them  much  more  directly  to  immediate  re- 
flection upon  the  facts  of  experience  than  it  does 
when  we  seek  to  reach  them  in  this  roundabout 
fashion.  Kant's  deduction  here  can  hardly  be  viewed 
as  other  than  a  case  of  the  artificial  formalism  of 
which  he  was  so  fond. 

This  brings  us  to  the  transcendental  deduction  of 
the  categories,  which  is  meant  to  be  an  advance 
beyond  this  metaphysical  deduction.  For  in  the 
latter  case  we  have  only  discovered  the  fact  that  the 
categories  exist,  but  in  the  transcendental  deduction 
the  aim  is  to  show  the  necessity  of  these  categories 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

as  that  without  which  no  mental  life  whatever  would 
be  possible.  Kant  says,  "Jurists,  when  speaking  of 
rights  and  claims,  distinguish  in  every  lawsuit  the 
question  of  right  from  the  question  of  fact,  and  in 
demanding  proof  of  both  they  call  the  former,  which 
is  to  show  the  right  or,  it  may  be,  the  claim,  the  deduc- 
tion." (Page  70.)  Now  something  of  the  same  kind 
is  necessary  in  the  philosophical  field.  In  the  case  of 
space  and  time  Kant  gave  a  transcendental  deduction 
of  geometry  and  number,  of  which  sciences  he  never 
had  any  doubt,  but  a  greater  difficulty  exists,  he 
thinks,  in  the  case  of  the  pure  concepts  of  the  under- 
standing. In  the  case  of  mathematics  we  have  clear 
insight  into  the  existence  of  our  objects  and  relations, 
but  this  is  not  true  with  the  understanding.  Hence 
some  transcendental  deduction  of  the  latter  is  espe- 
cially necessary,  which  shall  show  the  absolute  need 
of  these  categories  in  order  to  any  consciousness  what- 
ever. "It  was  easy  to  show  before,  when  treating  of  the 
concepts  of  space  and  time,  how  these,  though  being 
knowledge  a  priori,  refer  necessarily  to  objects,  and 
how  they  make  a  synthetical  knowledge  of  them  pos- 
sible, which  is  independent  of  all  experience.  For,  as 
no  object  can  appear  to  us,  that  is,  become  an  object 
of  empirical  intuition,  except  through  such  pure  forms 
of  sensibility,  space  and  time  are  pure  intuitions 
which  contain  a  priori  the  conditions  of  the  possibility 
of  objects  as  phenomena,  and  the  synthesis  in  these 
intuitions  possesses  objective  validity. 

"The  categories  of  the  understanding,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  not  conditions  under  which  objects  can  be 
given  in  intuition,  and  it  is  quite  possible  therefore 

64 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ANALYTIC 

that  objects  should  appear  to  us  without  any  neces- 
sary reference  to  the  functions  of  the  understanding, 
thus  showing  that  the  understanding  contains  by  no 
means  any  of  their  conditions  a  priori.  There  arises, 
therefore,  here  a  difficulty,  which  we  did  not  meet 
with  in  the  field  of  sensibility,  namely,  how  subjective 
conditions  of  thought  can  have  objective  validity,  that 
is,  become  conditions  of  the  possibility  of  the  know- 
ledge of  objects.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  phenomena 
may  be  given  in  intuition  without  the  functions  of 
the  understanding.  .  .  .  They  must  conform  to  the 
formal  conditions  of  sensibility  existing  a  priori  in 
the  mind,  because  otherwise  they  could  in  no  way  be 
objects  to  us.  But  why  besides  this  they  should  con- 
form to  the  conditions  wrhich  the  understanding  re- 
quires for  the  synthetical  unity  of  thought,  does  not 
seem  to  follow  quite  so  easily.  For  we  could  quite 
well  imagine  that  phenomena  might  possibly  be  such 
that  the  understanding  should  not  find  them  con- 
forming to  the  conditions  of  its  synthetical  unity, 
and  all  might  be  in  such  confusion  that  nothing  should 
appear  in  the  succession  of  phenomena  which  could 
supply  a  rule  of  synthesis,  and  correspond,  for  in- 
stance, to  the  concept  of  cause  and  effect,  so  that  this 
concept  would  thus  be  quite  empty,  null,  and  mean- 
ingless." (Page  74.) 

A  transcendental  deduction  of  the  categories  must 
then  be  admitted,  but  before  passing  to  this  we  must 
note  first  that  even  sensation  as  anything  articulate 
cannot  be  given  without  some  function  of  the  under- 
standing, as  we  have  seen.  Even  space  appearances 
are  nothing  for  us  except  as  the  understanding  brings 

65 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

them  under  fixed  ideas.  And  we  point  out,  second, 
that  the  formal  conditions  of  the  understanding  can- 
not be  arbitrarily  imposed  upon  phenomena.  As  we 
have  before  said,  the  subjective  conditions  of  sub- 
jective thought  must  be  harmonious  with  the  nature 
of  the  object.  The  phenomenon  must  be  taken  as 
a  thing,  otherwise  the  object  is  only  the  subjective 
illusion  projected  as  real.  This  objective  harmony 
between  the  laws  of  our  thought  and  the  nature  of 
the  thing  cannot  be  deduced,  but  only  accepted  as 
implied  in  the  possibility  of  knowledge.  At  the  same 
time  it  cannot  be  rejected,  for  then  we  fall  into  solip- 
sism and  nihilism.  We  must  bear  in  mind  what  has 
before  been  said  about  the  double  condition  of  know- 
ledge, the  subjective  and  the  objective.  Unless  we  do 
this  we  shall  not  understand  Kant  at  all. 


Ill 

TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION  OF  THE  CATEGORIES 

KANT'S  discussion  of  this  topic  differs  considerably 
in  the  second  edition  of  the  "Critique"  from  that 
given  in  the  first  edition,  and  it  is  obscure  and  unsat- 
isfactory in  both.  His  general  aim  is  to  show  that  the 
categories  are  the  a  priori  ground  of  experience,  sq^ 
that  without  them  experience  would  be  impossible. 
In  this  general  showing  his  so-called  deduction  of  the 
categories  consists.  There  is  an  important  truth 
underlying  the  doctrine,  but  in  the  exposition  given 
by  Kant  there  is  a  great  deal  that  is  inconsequent, 
very  much  more  that  is  operose,  and  somewhat  also 
that  is  distinctly  untenable. 

In  this  discussion  Kant  was  led  on  by  the  neces- 
sity of  showing  the  spontaneity  and  active  nature 
of  thought  in  opposition  to  the  pure  passivity  of  the 
traditional  empirical  school.  The  same  opposition 
led  him  to  emphasize  the  synthetic  activity  involved 
in  thought  in  contrast  to  the  fancy  of  earlier  philoso- 
phers that  thought  merely  analyzes  a  given  matter. 
If  we  bear  this  general  fact  in  mind,  we  shall  better 
understand  some  of  the  forms  which  the  discussion 
takes  on.  The  traditional  view  had  been  that  the 
objects  of  perception  might  be  given  to  a  passively 
recipient  mind,  which  should  reflect  those  objects 
something  as  a  mirror  reflects  the  things  which  stand 
before  it,  without  adding  anything  to  them  and  even 

67 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

without  doing  anything  more  than  this  passive 
reflection.  In  opposition  to  this,  Kant  strongly 
emphasizes  the  synthetic  activity  in  all  our  mental 
operations.  Accordingly  he  begins  the  transcendental 
deduction  by  emphasizing  the  synthetic  function  in 
the  mental  life  in  general.  In  the  first  edition  he  dis- 
tinguished three  original  sources  or  faculties,  "which 
contain  the  conditions  of  the  possibility  of  all  experi- 
ence, and  which  themselves  cannot  be  derived  from 
any  other  faculty,  namely,  sense,  imagination,  and 
apperception.  On  them  is  founded,  — 

"1.  The  synopsis  of  the  manifold  a  priori  through  the  senses. 

2.  The  synthesis  of  this  manifold  through  the  imagination. 

3.  The  unity  of  that  synthesis  by  means  of  original  apper- 
ception." (Page  78.) 

In  explanation  and  application  of  these  conditions 
he  proceeds  to  point  out  that  every  representation 
contains  something  manifold  and  is  presented  in  our 
consciousness  under  the  form  of  time.  Each  moment- 
ary impression  disappears  as  soon  as  it  arises,  and 
hence,  if  we  suppose  nothing  but  separate  or  discrete 
impressions,  there  could  be  no  consciousness  of  these 
as  such.  The  consciousness  of  a  single  impression 
could  not  distinguish  that  impression  from  the  con- 
sciousness of  succeeding  moments.  Hence  impression 
implies  not  merely  a  succession  of  impressions,  but  a 
consciousness  of  the  succession.  These  separate  im- 
pressions must  be  gathered  up  in  the  unity  of  the 
single  consciousness  of  the  successive  impressions  as 
united  into  a  single  object.  Kant  calls  this  "the 
synthesis  of  apprehension  in  intuition." 

The  necessity  of  this  synthesis  is  obvious  for  both 

68 


TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION 

empirical  and  pure  elements  of  perception.  Without 
it  we  should  never  be  able  to  have  the  representations 
either  of  concepts  or  time  a  priori,  because  these 
representations  —  say  of  a  line  or  triangle  —  cannot 
be  produced  except  by  a  synthesis  of  the  manifold, 
which  their  elements  offer. 

The  next  form  of  synthesis  Kant  calls  the  synthesis 
of  reproduction  in  imagination.  As  the  impressions 
are  momentary  and  are  continually  passing  away,  in 
order  that  thought  shall  not  cease  the  mind  must  be 
able  to  reproduce  the  past  data  so  as  to  combine 
them  with  the  present  fact.  Kant  says:  "We  must 
admit  a  pure  transcendental  synthesis  of  imagination 
which  forms  even  the  foundation  of  the  possibility 
of  all  experience,  such  experience  being  impossible 
without  the  reproductibility  of  phenomena.  Now, 
when  I  draw  a  line  in  thought,  or  if  I  think  the  time 
from  one  noon  to  another,  or  if  I  only  represent  to 
myself  a  certain  number,  it  is  clear  that  I  must  first 
necessarily  apprehend  one  of  these  manifold  represent- 
ations after  another.  .  .  .  And  if,  while  I  proceed  to 
what  follows,  I  were  unable  to  reproduce  what  came 
before,  there  would  never  be  a  complete  representa- 
tion, and  none  of  the  before-mentioned  thoughts,  not 
even  the  first  and  purest  representations  of  space  and 
time,  could  ever  arise  within  us. 

'  The  synthesis  of  apprehension  is  therefore  insep- 
arably connected  with  the  synthesis  of  reproduction, 
and  as  the  former  constitutes  the  transcendental 
ground  of  the  possibility  of  all  knowledge  in  general 
(not  only  of  empirical  but  also  of  pure  a  priori  know- 
ledge), it  follows  that  a  reproductive  synthesis  of  im- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

agination  belongs  to  the  transcendental  acts  of  the 
soul.  We  may  therefore  call  this  faculty  the  tran- 
scendental faculty  of  imagination."  (Page  84.) 

The  third  synthesis  Kant  calls  the  synthesis  of  re- 
cognition in  concepts.  He  says:  "Without  our  being 
conscious  that  what  we  are  thinking  now  is  the  same  + 
as  what  we  thought  a  moment  before,  all  reproduc- 
tion in  the  series  of  representations  would  be  vain. 
Each  representation  would,  in  its  present  state,  be 
a  new  one,  and  in  no  wise  belonging  to  the  act  by 
which  it  was  to  be  produced  by  degrees,  and  the  mani- 
fold in  it  would  never  form  a  whole,  because  deprived 
of  that  unity  which  consciousness  alone  can  impart 
to  it.  If  in  counting  I  forget  that  the  unities  which 
now  present  themselves  to  my  mind  have  been  added 
gradually  one  to  the  other,  I  should  not  know  the  pro- 
duction of  the  quantity  by  the  successive  addition 
of  one  to  one,  nor  should  I  know  consequently  the 
number  produced  by  the  counting,  this  number  being 
a  concept,  consisting  entirely  in  the  consciousness  of 
that  unity  of  synthesis."  (Page  85.) 

All  of  this  is  only  introductory,  but  already  Kant 
refers  here  to  a  presupposition  of  knowledge,  the  sig- 
nificance of  which  he  never  fully  develops  or  even 
realizes.  He  says  of  the  reproductive  imagination: 
'This  law  of  reproduction,  however,  presupposes 
that  the  phenomena  themselves  are  really  subject  to 
such  a  rule,  and  that  there  is  in  the  variety  of  these 
representations  a  sequence  and  concomitancy  sub- 
ject to  certain  rules;  for  without  this  the  faculty  of 
empirical  imagination  would  never  find  anything  to 
do  .that  it  is  able  to  do,  and  remain  therefore  buried 

70 


TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION 

within  our  mind  as  a  dead  faculty  unknown  to  our- 
selves. If  cinnabar  were  sometimes  red  and  sometimes 
black,  sometimes  light  and  sometimes  heavy,  if  a 
man  could  be  changed  now  into  this,  and  now  into 
another  animal  shape,  if  on  the  longest  day  the  fields 
were  sometimes  covered  with  fruit,  sometimes  with 
ice  and  snow,  the  faculty  of  my  empirical  imagina- 
tion would  never  be  in  a  position,  when  representing 
red  color,  to  think  of  heavy  cinnabar.  Nor,  if  a  cer- 
tain name  could  be  given  sometimes  to  this,  sometimes 
to  that  object,  or  if  the  same  object  could  sometimes 
be  called  by  one  and  sometimes  by  another  name, 
without  any  rule  to  which  representations  are  sub- 
ject by  themselves,  would  it  be  possible  that  any 
empirical  synthesis  of  reproduction  should  ever  take 
place/'  (Page  83.) 

Again,  he  says  in  the  same  line:  — 

"And  here  we  must  needs  arrive  at  a  clear  under- 
standing of  what  we  mean  by  an  object  of  repre- 
sentations. We  said  before  that  phenomena  are 
nothing  but  sensuous  representations,  which  there- 
fore by  themselves  must  not  be  taken  for  objects 
outside  our  faculty  of  representation.  What,  then, 
do  we  mean  if  we  speak  of  an  object  corresponding 
to,  and  therefore  also  different  from,  our  knowledge? 
It  is  easy  to  see  that  such  an  object  can  only  be  con- 
ceived as  something  in  general  =  x;  because,  beside 
our  knowledge,  we  have  absolutely  nothing  which 
we  could  put  down  as  corresponding  to  that  know- 
ledge. 

"Now  we  find  that  our  conception  of  the  relation 
of  all  knowledge  to  its  object  contains  something  of 

71 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

necessity,  the  object  being  looked  upon  as  that  which 
prevents  our  knowledge  from  being  determined  at 
haphazard,  and  causes  it  to  be  determined  a  priori  ( 
in  a  certain  way,  because,  as  they;  are  all  to  refer  to 
an  object,  they  must  necessarily,  with  regard  to  that 
object,  agree  with  each  other,  that  is  to  say,  possess 
that  unity  which  constitutes  the  concept  of  an  object. 
.  .  .  This  unity  of  rule  determines  the  manifold  and 
limits  it  to  conditions. 

"It  is  clear,  also,  that  as  we  can  only  deal  with  the 
manifold  in  our  representations,  and  as  the  x  cor- 
responding to  them  (the  object),  since  it  is  to  be 
something  different  from  all  our  representations,  is 
really  nothing  to  us,  it  is  clear,  I  say,  that  the  unity 
necessitated  by  the  object  cannot  be  anything  but  the 
formal  unity  of  our  consciousness  in  the  synthesis  of 
the  manifold  in  our  representations.  Then  and  then 
only  do  we  say  that  we  know  an  object,  if  we  have 
produced  synthetical  unity  in  the  manifold  of  intui- 
tion." (Page  86.) 

There  is,  then,  according  to  Kant,  an  original  and 
transcendental  condition  of  experience  which  out- 
ranks and  precedes  all  others.  This  he  calls  transcend- 
ental apperception.  This  "must  be  a  condition 
which  precedes  all  experience  and  in  fact  renders  it 
possible,  for  thus  only  could  such  a  transcendental 
supposition  acquire  validity.  No  knowledge  can  take 
place  in  us,  no  conjunction  or  unity  of  one  kind  of 
knowledge  with  another,  without  that  unity  of  con- 
sciousness which  precedes  all  data  of  intuition,  and 
without  reference  to  which  no  representation  of 
objects  is  possible."  (Page  88.) 

72 


TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION 

This  is  the  starting-point  of  the  transcendental 
deduction.  It  is  a  little  embarrassing  to  find  what 
seems  to  be  a  new  faculty  suddenly  thrust  upon  us. 
The  reproductive  imagination  here  appears  apparently 
somewhere  between  sense  and  the  understanding. 
The  understanding  was  before  defined  as  a  unifying 
power,  and  now  appears  another  unifying  power,  the 
reproductive  imagination,  without  any  clear  indica- 
tion of  what  its  relation  is  to  the  other  two  faculties 
and  of  what  the  unity  which  it  produces  consists  in. 
Let  us  suppose  that  the  imagination  produces  various 
unities.  Are  they  of  the  nature  of  the  unity  produced 
by  the  understanding,  or  are  they  something  distinct? 
Is  this  faculty  itself  simply  the  understanding  work- 
ing spontaneously,  or  is  it  something  distinct?  This 
is  a  point  left  very  obscure  and  indeed  unnoticed  by 
Kant,  although  it  is  one  which  a  student  of  Kant- 
ian psychology  would  be  glad  to  have  cleared  up.  It 
must  be  further  noted  that  the  understanding  in  this 
transcendental  deduction  has  become  very  different 
from  what  it  was  in  the  metaphysical  deduction  of 
the  categories.  There  it  was  apparently  based  on  the 
table  of  formal  judgments  in  the  traditional  logic, 
but  here  the  unity  which  it  produces  seems  to  be  of  *• 
quite  a  different  kind.  It  seems  to  be  largely  devoted 
not  to  the  manipulation  of  principles,  which  is  the 
great  function  of  formal  logic,  but  rather  to  the  get- 
ting of  objects  to  manipulate;  and  this  is  indeed  the~~ 
real  field  of  the  categories  in  their  concrete  and  vital 
application.  Formal  logic  classifies  and  deals  with 
objects  after  we  have  determined  them  and  their 
relations,  but  this  transcendental  logic  is  getting 

73 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

the  world  of  concrete  objects  and  their  relations. 
Kant  himself  does  not  seem  sufficiently  to  have  noted 
the  change  of  ground  in  passing  from  the  metaphys- 
ical to  the  transcendental  deduction.  As  to  the  trans- 
cendental unity  of  apperception,  that  is  only  a  very 
large  phrase  for  the  jmity_o^self .  The  necessity  of  this 
unity  as  the  condition  of  all  judgment  is  perfectly 
manifest.  If  states  of  consciousness  were  simply  our 
states  without  being  united  in  one  consciousness 
that  embraced  them  all,  there  would  be  no  articulate 
consciousness  whatever.  When  two  of  our  states 
A  and  B  are  given,  each  is  separate  from  the  other 
and  no  provision  for  their  union  is  made  until  there 
is  some  conscious  subject  M9  which  is  neither  A  nor 
B9  but  which  embraces  both  in  the  unity  of  its  own 
apprehension.  Then  by  distinguishing,  comparing, 
and  uniting  them  in  the  unity  of  one  conscious  act, 
it  reaches  the  judgment  A  is  B.  But  so  long  as  we 
have  only  the  particular  states  A  and  B,  they  remain 
mutually  external  and  the  judgment  is  impossible. 
Hence  over  against  the  plurality  of  coexistence  of  our 
states  the  self  must  be  one.  Over  against  the  plurality 
of  successive  particular  States  the  self  must  be  both 
one  and  abiding.  The  latter  necessity  is  as  manifest 
as  the  former,  for  if  we  suppose  the  particular  states 
to  be  in  time,  they  vanish  as  fast  as  they  are  born; 
and  if  there  be  nothing  that  abides  across  this  flow 
and  unites  the  past  and  the  present  in  the  unity  of 
its  continuous  and  identical  existence,  once  more  the 
judgment,  and  with  it  all  articulate  experience,  be- 
comes impossible. 

What  Kant  says  about  the  object  will  be  considered 

74 


TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION 

later  on.  We  remark  here  only  that  it  has  a  pretty 
strong  idealistic  flavor  and  seems  to  make  the  object 
only  a  function  of  the  understanding  itself,  that  is,  of 
the  human  understanding,  because  as  yet  no  other 
understanding  is  in  sight.  He  says:  "It  is  we,  there- 
fore, who  carry  into  the  phenomena  which  we  call 
nature,  order  and  regularity,  nay,  we  should  never 
find  them  in  nature,  if  we  ourselves,  or  the  nature  of 
our  mind,  had  not  originally  placed  them  there.  For 
the  unity  of  nature  is  meant  to  be  a  necessary  and  / 
a  priori  certain  unity  in  the  connection  of  all  phe- 
nomena. And  how  should  we  a  priori  have  arrived 
at  such  a  synthetical  unity,  if  the  subjective  grounds 
of  such  unity  were  not  contained  a  priori  in  the  origi- 
nal sources  of  our  knowledge,  and  if  those  subjective 
conditions  did  not  at  the  same  time  possess  objective 
validity,  as  being  the  grounds  on  which  alone  an  ob- 
ject becomes  possible  in  our  experience?"  (Page  102.) 
"However  exaggerated  therefore  and  absurd  it  may 
sound,  that  the  understanding  is  itself  the  source  of 
the  laws  of  nature,  and  of  its  formal  unity,  such  a 
statement  is  nevertheless  correct  and  in  accordance 
with  experience.  .  .  .  The  pure  understanding  is 
therefore  in  the  categories  the  law  of  the  synthetical 
unity  of  all  phenomena,  and  thus  makes  experience, 
so  far  as  its  form  is  concerned,  for  the  first  time  pos- 
sible. This,  and  no  more  than  this,  we  are  called  upon 
to  prove  in  the  transcendental  deduction  of  the  cate-  J 
gories,  namely,  to  make  the  relation  of  the  under- 
standing to  our  sensibility,  and  through  it  to  all 
objects  of  experience,  that  is,  the  objective  validity 
of  the  pure  concepts  a  priori  of  the  understanding, 

75 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

conceivable,  and  thus  to  establish   their  origin  and 
their  truth."  (Page  104.) 

Such  is  Kant's  transcendental  deduction  of  the 
categories.  In  no  strict  sense  of  the  word  can  it  be 
called  a  deduction.  At  the  very  best  it  can  be  viewed 
only  as  a  discovery  of  the  categories  from  another 
point  of  view  than  that  taken  in  the  metaphysical 
deduction,  and  the  discovery  itself  involves  no  such 
operose  and  tedious  considerations  as  Kant  himself 
has  given  us.  Simple  reflection  on  the  nature  of 
thought  will  show  that  our  principles  really  become 
principles  for  us  only  as  the  categories  of  the  under- 
standing appear  in  them.  It  is  plain  that  if  objects 
did  not  constitute  some  kind  of  system,  so  as  to  stand 
in  some  intelligible  relation  to  one  another  and  to 
admit  of  expression  in  terms  of  our  rational  ideas,  we 
should  have  no  articulate  consciousness  whatever. 
&  If  all  objects  were  incommensurable,  there  could  be 
no  subsumptive  judgment.  If  the  category  of  reality 
and  the  relation  of  substance  and  attribute  were 
removed  from  the  thought  world,  there  would  be 
little  that  is  intelligible  left.  Without  the  connection 
of  cause  and  effect  the  causal  judgment  would  be 
worthless.  Without  the  connection  of  reciprocity  or 
mutual  determination,  existence  breaks  up  into  unre- 
lated elements  and  no  judgment  can  find  its  way  from 
one  thing  to  another.  Without  the  continuity  of  ex- 
istence, past  and  future  fall  hopelessly  asunder  and 
nothing  is  left  but  vanishing  and  groundless  shadows. 
And  this  was  the  result  implied  in  Hume's  denial  of 
connection.  The  outer  world  of  coexistences  broke 
up  into  groups  of  qualities  without  any  inner  union, 

76 


TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION 

and  the  world  of  cause  and  effect  vanished  into  an 
unconnected  series  of  groundless  events.  Even  the 
externality  of  the  world  and  the  existence  of  other 
minds  disappear  on  that  view,  and  nothing  is  left 
but  a  groundless  and  vanishing  phantasmagoria  in 
the  consciousness  of  nobody.  In  this  sense  we  may 
say  that  the  categories  are  the  condition  of  all  know- 
ledge and  of  all  objects,  but  this  is  by  no  means  to 
deduce  them,  it  is  rather  to  discover  them  as  the 
actual  conditions  of  the  consciousness  we  actually 
possess;  but  Kant  has  nowhere  succeeded  in  deduc- 
ing them  from  the  conception  of  self -consciousness* 
He  has  merely  succeeded  in  showing  that  self  -con-  s 
sciousness  realizes  itself  through  the  categories,  and 
this  is  far  enough  from  being  anything  that  deserves 
the  high  name  of  the  transcendental  or  other  de- 
duction. Moreover  even  this  does  not  apply  by  any 
means  to  Kant's  entire  table  of  categories,  some  of 
which  are  of  very  doubtful  validity,  while  other 
categories  of  far  greater  importance  are  omitted.  All 
that  we  can  allow,  then,  is  that  the  mind  itself  actu- 
ally proceeds  according  to  principles  immanent  in 
itself  in  the  attainment  of  consciousness  and  know- 
ledge. Whether  these  principles  can  all  be  definitely 
formulated  is  a  question  that  we  have  not  to  consider. 
Furthermore,  in  order  to  avoid  the  apparent  absurd- 
ity in  Kant's  doctrine  that  the  mind  makes  nature, 
we  may  recur  to  what  has  before  been  said,  namely, 
that  a  knowing  process  must  in  any  case  proceed 
according  to  rules  immanent  in  the  mind.  If  we  allow 
the  world  to  be  as  real  and  as  independent  of  us  as 
the  most  pronounced  disciple  of  common  sense  would 

77 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

maintain,  we  must  nevertheless  hold  that  the  unity 
of  this  world  arises  for  us  only  through  the  inner  con- 
structive and  constitutive  action  of  our  own  minds. 
Allowing,  then,  that  the  cosmic  reality  exists  in  its 
own  right,  we  may  still  ask  how  that  existent  reality 
becomes  an  object  of  knowledge  for  us.  And  when  we 
remember  that  sense  alone  can  give  us  nothing  but 
discontinuous  sensations,  and  that  unaided  sense 
perception  at  best  could  give  nothing  more  than  dis- 
continuous presentations,  we  must  ask  what  weaves 
this  rather  flimsy  and  unsubstantial  material  into  a 
solid  and  abiding  world.  It  is  the  mind,  and  the  mind 
can  do  it  only  because  the  plan  and  order  of  nature  is 
implicit  in  the  mind;  for  nature  as  known  is  our  own 
product,  just  as  another's  thought,  so  far  as  grasped 
by  me,  must  be  immediately  my  own  thought.  It  has 
in  it,  indeed,  the  necessity  of  referring  to  another's 
thought  of  which  it  grasps  the  content,  but  never- 
theless the  thought  is  mine.  In  like  manner  my 
thought  of  nature  has  in  it  an  objective  reference, 
so  that  I  am  grasping  a  content  independent  of  my 
thought;  nevertheless  both  the  form  and  content  of 
nature,  so  far  as  they  exist  for  me,  are  my  own  pro- 
duct. Our  understanding,  then,  makes  nature  in  a 
real  and  important  sense.  It  is  only  through  the  laws 
of  nature  immanent  in  the  understanding  that  any 
knowledge  of  an  objectively  existing  nature  can  pos-  * 
sibly  arise.  Whether,  corresponding  to  the  reason 
by  which  nature  exists  for  us,  there  is  cosmic  reason 
by  which  nature  has  its  existence  independent  of  us, 
is  another  question.  It  is  a  question  which  Kant  did 
not  sufficiently  consider.  He  was  led  by  his  doctrine 

78 


TRANSCENDENTAL  DEDUCTION 

of  the  subjectivity  of  the  categories  to  overlook  the 
fact  that  the  forms  of  the  understanding  cannot  be 
arbitrarily  impressed  upon  experience,  so  that  know- 
ledge is  finally  conditioned,  as  we  have  before  said,  not 
merely  by  the  laws  of  our  thought,  but  also  by  some 
independent  nature  of  the  object.  When  the  latter 
element  is  omitted  the  next  thing  is  agnosticism,  and 
the  end  is  solipsism  and  nihilism. 

The  following  quotation  shows  how  far  Kant  could 
go  in  the  latter  direction.  He  gives  what  he  calls  a 
summary  representation  of  the  correctness  and  of  the 
only  possibility  of  this  deduction  of  the  pure  con- 
cepts of  the  understanding.  He  says:  "If  the  objects 
with  which  our  knowledge  has  to  deal  were  things  by 
themselves,  we  could  have  no  concepts  a  priori  of 
them.  For  where  should  we  take  them?  If  we  took 
them  from  the  object  (without  asking  even  the  ques- 
tion, how  that  object  could  be  known  to  us),  our  con- 
cepts would  be  empirical  only,  not  concepts  a  priori. 
If  we  took  them  from  within  ourselves,  then  that 
which  is  within  us  only,  could  not  determine  the  na- 
ture of  an  object  different  from  our  representations; 
that  is,  supply  a  ground  why  there  should  be  a  thing 
to  which  something  like  what  we  have  in  our  thoughts 
really  belongs,  and  why  all  this  representation  should 
not  rather  be  altogether  empty.  But  if,  on  the  con- 
trary, we  have  to  deal  with  phenomena  only,  then  it 
becomes  not  only  possible,  but  necessary,  that  cer- 
tain concepts  a  priori  should  precede  our  empirical 
knowledge  of  objects.  For  being  phenomena,  they 
form  an  object  that  is  within  us. only,  because  a  mere 
modification  of  our  sensibility  can  never  exist  outside 

79 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

r 

us.  The  very  idea  that  all  these  phenomena,  and 
therefore  all  objects  with  which  we  have  to  deal,  are 
altogether  within  me,  or  determinations  of  my  own 
identical  self,  implies  by  itself  the  necessity  of  a  perma- 
nent unity  of  them  in  one  and  the  same  apperception. 
.  .  .  Pure  concepts  of  the  understanding  are  there- 
fore a  priori  possible,  nay,  with  regard  to  experience, 
necessary,  for  this  simple  reason,  because  our  know- 
ledge has  to  deal  with  nothing  but  phenomena,  the 
possibility  of  which  depends  on  ourselves,  and  the 
connection  and  unity  of  which  (in  the  representation 
of  an  object)  can  be  found  in  ourselves  only,  as  ante- 
cedent to  all  experience,  nay,  as  first  rendering  all 
experience  possible,  so  far  as  its  form  is  concerned. 
On  this  ground,  as  the  only  possible  one,  our  deduc- 
tion of  the  categories  has  been  carried  out. "  (Page 
105.) 

We  shall  later  discuss  Kant's  general  doctrine  of 
phenomena.  We  here  refer  simply  to  a  previous 
statement,  that  the  a  priori  character  of  the  cate- 
gories is  by  no  means  a  sufficient  proof  of  their 
validity.  We  have  before  said  that  the  a  priori  doc- 
trine is  a  kind  of  negative  condition  of  knowledge  in 
the  sense  that  the  pure  passivity  of  the  mind  which 
Hume  maintained  makes  the  mind  really  incapable 
of  knowledge  of  any  kind.  On  this  account,  then,  we 
must  affirm  a  certain  activity  on  the  part  of  the  mind 
as  a  necessary  condition  of  all  knowledge,  and  in  this 
sense  the  a  priori  doctrine  must  be  maintained.  But 
it  by  no  means  follows  that  things  are  true  because 
they  are  a  priori.  They  might  well  be  a  priori  prin- 
ciples, that  is  principles  derived  from  the  mind  itself, 

80 


ANALYTIC  OF  PRINCIPLES 

which  nevertheless  lead  us  astray.  And  indeed  Kant's 
own  view  with  regard  to  knowledge  comes  danger- 
ously near  to  this  conception.  Knowledge  is  a  priori, 
and  yet  is  not  true  for  reality,  but  only  for  appear- 
ance. Moreover,  as  we  shall  also  see,  this  statement 
that  the  mind  makes  the  object,  while  having  a  cer- 
tain subjective  truth,  is  only  half  the  matter,  for  if  we 
take  it  in  strict  literalness  the  result  is  to  shut  us  up, 
as  we  have  seen,  to  solipsistic  negation  and  nihilism. 

Analytic  of  Principles 

The  analytic,  as  we  have  seen,  is  divided  into  two 
parts:  the  analytic  of  conceptions,  of  which  the  aim 
is  to  discover  and  vindicate  the  validity  of  the  cate- 
gories; and  the  analytic  of  principles,  of  which  the  aim 
is  to  determine  the  use  of  the  categories  in  judgment 
or  in  application.  The  latter  power,  which  we  are  now 
to  consider,  is  also  divided  into  two.  We  must  first 
determine  the  conditions  under  which  the  categories 
are  used,  and  next  discover  the  a  priori  principles 
involved  in  the  use  of  the  categories  under  these 
conditions.  The  problems  then  become  the  schemat- 
ism of  the  pure  concepts  of  the  understanding  and 
the  system  of  all  principles  of  the  pure  understanding. 
It  is  hard  to  escape  a  certain  impression  of  arbitrari- 
ness in  this  section.  There  seems  to  be  in  some  re- 
spects a  reduplication  of  the  work  of  the  previous 
chapters.  When  we  have  discovered  what  the  cate- 
gories are  and  determine  their  validity,  it  would  seem 
that  special  conditions  of  application  need  not  be 
considered ;  but  in  the  system  of  principles  Kant  pro- 
ceeds to  give  new  proofs  quite  independent  of  those 

81 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

given  in  the  deduction  of  the  categories,  as  if  he  had 
not  entirely  satisfied  himself  in  the  deduction  and 
wished  to  try  again. 

The  doctrine  of  schematism  is  very  confused  and 
does  not  seem  to  be  particularly  useful.  The  problem 
is  stated  by  Kant  in  this  form:  - 

"In  comprehending  any  object  under  a  concept, 
the  representation  of  the  former  must  be  homogene- 
ous with  the  latter.  .  .  .  Thus,  for  instance,  the 
empirical  concept  of  a  plate  is  homogeneous  with  the 
pure  geometrical  concept  of  a  circle,  the  roundness 
which  is  conceived  in  the  first  forming  an  object  of 
intuition  in  the  latter. 

"Now  it  is  clear  that  pure  concepts  of  the  under- 
standing, as  compared  with  empirical  or  sensuous 
impressions  in  general,  are  entirely  heterogeneous, 
and  can  never  be  met  with  in  any  intuition.  How, 
then,  can  the  latter  be  comprehended  under  the 
former,  or  how  can  the  categories  be  applied  to  phe- 
nomena, as  no  one  is  likely  to  say  that  causality,  for 
instance,  could  be  seen  through  the  senses  and  was 
contained  in  the  phenomenon?  It  is  really  this  very 
natural  and  important  question  which  renders  a 
transcendental  doctrine  of  the  faculty  of  judgment 
necessary,  in  order  to  show  how  it  is  possible  that  any 
of  the  pure  concepts  of  the  understanding  can  be 
applied  to  phenomena.  In  all  other  sciences  in  which 
the  concepts  by  which  the  object  is  thought  in  gen- 
eral are  not  so  heterogeneous  or  different  from  those 
which  represent  it  in  concrete,  and  as  it  is  given,  there 
is  no  necessity  to  enter  into  any  discussions  as  to  the 
applicability  of  the  former  to  the  latter. 

82 


ANALYTIC  OF  PRINCIPLES 

"In  our  case  there  must  be  some  third  thing  homo- 
geneous on  the  one  side  with  the  category,  and  on  the 
other  with  the  phenomenon,  to  render  the  application 
of  the  former  to  the  latter  possible.  This  intermediate 
representation  must  be  pure  (free  from  all  that  is 
empirical)  and  yet  intelligible  on  the  one  side,  and 
sensuous  on  the  other.  Such  a  representation  is  the 
transcendental  schema."  (Page  112.) 

There  is,  then,  according  to  Kant  a  need  of  some 
kind  of  go-between  which  shall  unite  the  sensuous 
presentations  of  the  sensibility  with  the  unpicturable 
ideas  of  the  understanding.  This  go-between  he  finds 
in  the  notion  of  time,  or  the  schemata  of  the  various 
categories  are  derived  from  time. 

"The  pure  image  of  all  quantities  before  the  ex- 
ternal sense  is  space;  that  of  all  objects  of  the  senses 
in  general,  time.  The  pure  schema  of  quantity,  how- 
ever, as  a  concept  of  the  understanding,  is  number, 
a  representation  which  comprehends  the  successive 
addition  of  one  to  one  (homogeneous).  Number, 
therefore,  is  nothing  but  the  unity  of  the  synthesis 
of  the  manifold  (repetition)  of  a  homogeneous  intui- 
tion in  general,  I  myself  producing  the  time  in  the 
apprehension  of  the  intuition. 

"Reality  is,  in  the  pure  concept  of  the  understand- 
ing, that  which  corresponds  to  a  sensation  in  general : 
that,  therefore,  the  concept  of  which  indicates  by 
itself  being  (in  time),  while  negation  is  that  the  con- 
cept of  which  represents  not-being  (in  time).  The 
opposition  of  the  two  takes  place  therefore  by  a  dis- 
tinction of  one  and  the  same  time,  as  either  filled  or 
empty.  .  .  . 

83 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

"The  schema  of  substance  is  the  permanence  of 
the  real  in  time,  that  is,  the  representation  of  it  as  a 
substratum  for  the  empirical  determination  of  time 
in  general,  which  therefore  remains  while  everything 
else  changes.  .  .  . 

"The  schema  of  cause  and  of  the  causality  of  a 
thing  in  general  is  the  real  which,  when  once  sup- 
posed to  exist,  is  always  followed  by  something  else. 
It  consists,  therefore,  in  the  succession  of  the  mani- 
fold, in  so  far  as  that  succession  is  subject  to  a  rule. 

"The  schema  of  community  (reciprocal  action)  or 
of  the  reciprocal  causality  of  substances,  in  respect 
to  their  accidents,  is  the  coexistence,  according  to  a 
general  rule,  of  the  determinations  of  the  one  with 
those  of  the  other. 

"The  schema  of  possibility  is  the  agreement  of  the 
synthesis  of  different  representations  with  the  condi- 
tions of  time  in  general,  as,  for  instance,  when  oppo- 
sites  cannot  exist  at  the  same  time  in  the  same  thing, 
but  only  one  after  the  other.  It  is  therefore  the  deter- 
mination of  the  representation  of  a  thing  at  any  time 
whatsoever. 

"The  schema  of  reality  is  existence  at  a  given  time. 
The  schema  of  necessity  is  the  existence  of  an  object 
at  all  times."  (Page  116.) 

Thus  we  see  that  time  is  introduced  as  the  schema 
which  is  to  make  clear  the  application  of  the  cate- 
gories to  the  intuitions  of  sense. 

This  doctrine  seems  baseless  in  its  reasoning  and  a 
failure  in  itself.  First,  as  to  its  reasoning.  There 
seems  to  be  nothing  whatever  which  calls  for  this 
picturing  of  the  unpicturable  categories.  There  is  no 

84 


ANALYTIC  OF  PRINCIPLES 

subsumption  of  the  principles  of  sense  under,  say,  the 
category  of  cause,  like  the  subsumption  of  singulars 
under  a  universal  in  formal  logic.  There  is  rather  the 
reference  of  the  objects  of  sense  to  the  principles  of  cau- 
sality as  their  explanation.  There  being,  then,  no  sub- 
sumption,  we  need  not  concern  ourselves  for  any  schema 
to  mediate  the  subsumption  which  does  not  exist. 

There  is,  however,  a  difficulty  of  another  kind  which 
Kant  himself  does  not  appreciate,  as  follows.  Con- 
cepts, we  have  seen,  without  intuitions  are  empty, 
and  the  concepts  of  the  understanding  cannot  be 
presented  in  the  intuitions  of  sense.  There  is  nothing 
whatever  in  sense  that  represents  to  us  the  concept 
of  substance  or  cause  or  identity,  etc.  The  temporal 
intuition  and  the  spatial  intuition  alike  are  useless 
in  this  respect.  Hence  we  might  raise  the  question, 
What  do  the  categories  really  mean;  are  they  any- 
thing more  than  merely  verbal  forms  without  con- 
tents? And  clearly  they  must  be  regarded  as  such 
forms  unless  we  find  somewhere  in  our  total  experience 
something  which  will  illustrate  these  categories  and 
assure  us  that  they  have  some  real  meaning;  and  for 
this  we  need  not  a  doctrine  of  schematism,  but  an 
examination  of  experience  in  order  to  see  the  forms 
these  categories  take  on  in  the  concrete.  Then  it 
appears  that  when  abstractly  taken  the  categories 
not  only  defy  conception,  but  contradict  themselves, 
and  they  continue  to  do  so  until  they  are  brought 
out  of  their  abstraction  and  are  looked  upon  as  modes 
of  intellectual  manifestation.  Thus  if  we  talk  of  the 
categories  of  being,  unity,  identity,  causality,  sub- 
stance, etc.,  in  abstraction  from  any  given  experience 

85 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

we  find  them  utterly  vacuous,  so  that  we  cannot  tell 
whether  there  be  any  corresponding  fact  or  not,  and 
it  is  only  as  we  find  these  categories  realized  in  living 
self -experience  that  they  acquire  other  than  a  formal 
meaning  or  pass  from  anything  more  than  purely 
verbal  counters.  Thus,  take  the  category  of  being. 
Suppose  we  ask  what  we  mean  by  it.  At  least  it 
would  be  found  that  it  means  either  objectivity  in 
experience  or  else  it  means  just  our  own  conscious 
life.  Similarly  with  identity.  This  may  mean  the 
formal  identity  of  logical  meaning,  or  it  may  signify 
a  continued  existence  through  a  period  of  time.  In 
the  latter  case,  which  is  supposed  to  be  the  meta- 
physical meaning,  we  really  do  not  know  by  specu- 
lation whether  such  a  thing  is  possible  or  not.  Suc- 
cessive experience  is  not  identity,  and  changeless 
existence  cannot  be  found.  Here  again  we  have  to 
fall  back  upon  experience.  Identity  is  given  as  the 
self -equality  of  intelligence  through  experience,  and 
any  other  conception  destroys  itself.  In  like  manner, 
when  we  attempt  to  think  causality  abstractly  and 
impersonally,  we  lose  ourselves  in  the  infinite  regress, 
and  if  we  escape  it  we  have  no  means  of  telling  whether 
there  is  anything  corresponding  to  our  ideas  or  not. 
The  categories,  then,  are  simply  abstractions  from 
self-conscious  life.  They  are  the  modes  of  operation 
of  the  intellect  and  derive  their  meaning  only  from 
that  self-conscious  life  as  they  find  their  only  realiza- 
tion in  it.  But  this  result  is  far  removed  from  Kant's 
operose  doctrine  of  the  schematism  of  the  categories. 
We  pass  now  to  consider  the  system  of  principles 
which  Kant  lays  down. 


IV 


THE   SYSTEM  OF  ALL   PRINCIPLES   OF  THE   PURE 
UNDERSTANDING 

IN  the  transcendental  aesthetic  Kant  satisfied  him- 
self with  presenting  the  subjectivity  of  space  and  time 
as  the  foundation  for  mathematics,  but  he  made  no 
attempt  to  develop  any  other  principles  of  mathe- 
matical science.  The  aim  of  the  transcendental  ana- 
lytic was  to  show  how  pure  physics  was  possible,  and 
this  possibility  is  found  in  the  doctrine  of  the  cate- 
gories; but  now  Kant  proceeds  in  the  present  section 
to  point  out  some  of  the  general  principles  of  science. 
In  this  respect  he  goes  beyond  what  he  did  in  the  doc- 
trine of  mathematics.  He  gives  a  table  of  principles 
of  the  understanding  as  follows :  — 

I  II 

Axioms  of  Intuition  Anticipations  of  Perception 

III  IV 

Analogies  of  Experience  Postulates  of  Empirical  Thought 

in  General 

The  first  two  classes  he  calls  the  mathematical  prin- 
ciples and  the  other  two  dynamic. 

Inasmuch  as  our  experience  has  the  spatial  and 
temporal  form  and  is  also  founded  upon  the  work  of 
the  understanding,  we  should  expect  to  find  the  two 
factors,  the  sense  factor  and  the  rational  factor,  unit- 

87 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

ing  in  our  science.  The  first  two  divisions  given  by 
Kant  aim  to  make  mathematics  applicable  to  science, 
or  rather  to  bring  our  system  of  principles  under  the 
space  and  time  law  so  that  mathematics  can  be 
applied  to  them.  The  other  two  classes  relate  to  the 
dynamic  categories  or  to  the  world  of  power. 

For  the  axioms  of  intuition  Kant  lays  down  the 
following  principle.  All  phenomena  are  with  reference 
to  their  intuition  extensive  quantities. 

Since  by  hypothesis  these  phenomena  are  in  space 
and  time,  it  does  not  seem  very  difficult  to  admit  this 
statement.  At  the  same  time  Kant  gives  some  rather 
doubtful  reasons  in  support  of  them.  He  says:  "I 
call  an  extensive  quantity  that  in  which  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  whole  is  rendered  possible  by  the 
representation  of  its  parts,  and  therefore  necessarily 
preceded  by  it.  I  cannot  represent  to  myself  any  line, 
however  small  it  may  be,  without  drawing  it  in 
thought,  that  is,  without  producing  all  its  parts  one 
after  the  other,  starting  from  a  given  point,  and  thus, 
first  of  all,  drawing  its  intuition.  The  same  applies 
to  every,  even  the  smallest  portion  of  time.  I  can 
only  think  in  it  the  successive  progress  from  one 
moment  to  another,  thus  producing  in  the  end,  by  all 
portions  of  time  and  their  addition,  a  definite  quan- 
tity of  time.  ...  All  phenomena,  therefore,  when 
perceived  in  intuition,  are  aggregates  of  previously 
given  parts,  which  is  not  the  case  with  every  kind  of 
quantities,  but  with  those  only  which  are  represented 
to  us  and  apprehended  as  extensive."  (Page  133.) 

If  this  were  taken  literally,  we  should  be  lost  forth- 
with in  the  infinite  divisibility  of  space  and  time,  and 

88 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

could  never  reach  any  finite  quantity  whatever.  It 
must,  therefore,  be  taken  with  allowance.  It  is  much 
easier  to  admit  directly  that  spatial  and  temporal 
phenomena  are  extensive  quantities  admitting  of 
division  or  increase  as  a  matter  of  direct  insight,  than 
it  is  to  infer  the  fact  from  reasoning  of  this  sort. 

The  anticipations  of  perception  are  expressed  in 
the  principle  that  "in  all  phenomena  sensation,  and 
the  real  which  corresponds  to  it  in  the  object,  has  an 
intensive  quantity,  that  is  a  degree."  "All  phenom- 
ena, therefore,  are  continuous  quantities,  whether 
according  to  their  intuition  as  extensive  or  according 
to  mere  perception  as  intensive  quantities."  This 
does  not  tell  us  very  much,  but  in  a  way  it  makes 
provision  for  the  application  of  mathematics  to  the 
phenomena  of  experience,  whether  in  the  extensions 
of  space  and  time  or  in  the  intensities  of  natural 
forces. 

The  analogies  of  experience  present  a  problem  of 
greater  importance.  Here  we  pass  to  the  metaphysical 
and  dynamic  conceptions  and  come  upon  problems 
of  greater  difficulty.  Kant  says:  "The  three  modi  of 
time  are  permanence,  succession,  and  coexistence. 
There  will,  therefore,  be  three  rules  of  all  relations  of 
phenomena  in  time  by  which  the  existence  of  every 
phenomenon  with  regard  to  the  unity  of  time  is  de- 
termined, and  these  rules  will  precede  all  experience, 
nay,  render  experience  possible.  .  .  . 

"  These  principles  have  this  peculiarity  that  they  do 
not  refer  to  phenomena  and  the  synthesis  of  their  em- 
pirical intuition,  but  only  to  the  existence  of  phenom- 
ena and  their  mutual  relation  with  regard  to  their  ex- 

89 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

istence. "  (Page  144.)  In  this  respect  they  are  different 
from  the  mathematical  principles  which  tell  us  how  to 
produce  phenomena  according  to  the  rules  of  a  mathe- 
matical synthesis,  and  which  therefore  might  be  called 
constitutive;  but  "the  case  is  totally  different  with 
those  modes  which  are  meant  to  bring  the  existence 
of  phenomena  under  rules  a  priori,  for  as  existence 
cannot  be  constructed  they  can  only  refer  to  the 
relations  of  existence  and  become  merely  regulative 
principles." 

The  first  analogy  is  called  the  principle  of  perma- 
nence, and  the  principle  is  given  as  follows.  "All 
phenomena  contain  the  permanent  (substance)  as 
the  object  itself  and  the  changeable  as  its  determina- 
tion only,  that  is,  as  a  mode  in  which  the  object  ex- 
ists." It  is  manifest  that  Kant  here  has  got  out  of  the 
realm  of  phenomenalism  into  the  realm  of  independ- 
ent things,  for  nothing  whatever  such  as  is  described 
here  is  possible  in  a  phenomenal  scheme.  Kant  is 
really  here  laying  down  the  foundations  of  mechanical 
science  as  it  had  existed  since  the  time  of  Newton. 
Further  Kant  reasons  very  badly  for  his  principle 
of  permanence.  He  says:  "Without  something  per- 
manent no  relation  of  time  is  possible.  Time  by  itself, 
however,  cannot  be  perceived,  and  it  is  therefore  the 
permanent  in  phenomena  that  forms  the  substratum 
for  all  determination  of  time,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  condition  of  the  possibility  of  all  synthetical  unity 
of  perceptions,  that  is,  of  experience;  while  with  re- 
gard to  that  permanent  all  existence  and  all  change 
in  time  can  only  be  taken  as  a  mode  of  existence  of 
what  is  permanent.  In  all  phenomena,  therefore, 

90 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

the  permanent  is  the  object  itself,  that  is,  the  sub- 
stance (phenomenon),  while  all  that  changes  or  can 
change  belongs  only  to  the  mode  in  which  substance 
or  substances  exist,  therefore  to  their  determinations." 
(Page  150.)  "Substances  therefore  (as phenomena)  are 
the  true  substrata  of  all  determinations  of  time.  If 
some  substances  could  arise  and  others  perish,  the 
only  condition  of  the  empirical  unity  of  time  would 
be  removed,  and  phenomena  would  then  be  referred 
to  two  different  times  in  which  existence  would  pass 
side  by  side,  which  is  absurd.  For  there  is  but  one 
time  in  which  all  different  times  must  be  placed,  not 
as  simultaneous,  but  as  successive. 

"Permanence,  therefore,  is  a  necessary  condition 
under  which  alone  phenomena,  as  things  or  objects, can 
be  determined  in  a  possible  experience."  (Page  154.) 

That  in  some  sense  there  must  be  an  abiding  ele- 
ment to  make  experience  possible,  and  that  change 
must  admit  of  being  gathered  up  in  some  fixed  expres- 
sion, is  of  course  perfectly  clear,  but  that  question 
need  not  be  conceived  in  any  such  way  as  Kant  here 
suggests.  Neither  can  the  problem  of  permanence 
be  solved  in  this  crude  fashion.  On  the  impersonal 
plane  there  is  no  possibility  of  combining  permanence 
with  change,  least  of  all  by  a  mere  analysis  of  the 
notion  of  change.  On  that  plane  we  cannot  reserve 
anything  in  the  world  of  change  as  an  abiding  ele- 
ment, for  as  soon  as  it  becomes  changeless  it  no  longer 
explains  change,  and  when  it  explains  change  it  passes 
into  the  changing  and  changes  through  and  through. 
The  problem  here  can  be  solved  only  as  we  carry  it 
up  to  the  plane  of  personality,  and  find  the  perma- 

91 


^  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

nence  of  experience  in  the  world  of  meaning  and  in 
the  self-conscious  intelligence  which  founds  and  ad- 
ministers the  world  of  meanings  under  the  form  of 
change. 

The  second  analogy  Kant  calls  the  principle  of 
production  and  gives  it  as  follows:  "Everything  that 
happens  (begins  to  be)  presupposes  something  on 
which  it  follows  according  to  a  rule."  Under  this  head 
Kant  discusses  the  law  of  causality,  and  from  an  alto- 
gether different  standpoint  from  that  taken  in  the 
metaphysical  or  the  transcendental  deduction.  Kant 
argues  as  follows:  "The  apprehension  of  the  manifold 
of  phenomena  is  always  successive.  The  representa- 
tions of  the  parts  follow  one  upon  another.  Whether 
they  also  follow  one  upon  the  other  in  the  object  is  a 
second  point  for  reflection,  not  contained  in  the  for- 
mer. We  may  indeed  call  everything,  even  every  repre- 
sentation, so  far  as  we  are  conscious  of  it,  an  object; 
but  it  requires  a  more  profound  investigation  to  dis- 
cover what  this  word  may  mean  with  regard  to  phe- 
nomena, not  in  so  far  as  they  (as  representations)  are 
objects,  but  in  so  far  as  they  only  signify  an  object.  So 
far  as  they,  as  representations  only,  are  at  the  same 
time  objects  of  consciousness,  they  cannot  be  distin- 
guished from  our  apprehension,  that  is,  from  their 
being  received  in  the  synthesis  of  our  imagination;  and 
we  must  therefore  say  that  the  manifold  of  phenom- 
ena is  always  produced  in  the  mind  successively.  If 
phenomena  were  things  by  themselves,  the  succession 
of  the  representations  of  their  manifold  would  never 
enable  us  to  judge  how  that  manifold  is  connected 
in  the  object.  We  have  always  to  deal  with  our  repre- 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

sentations  only;  how  things  may  be  by  themselves 
(without  reference  to  the  representations  by  which 
they  affect  us)  is  completely  beyond  the  sphere  of  our 
knowledge.  Since,  therefore,  phenomena  are  not  things 
by  themselves,  and  are  yet  the  only  thing  that  can  be 
given  to  us  to  know,  I  am  asked  to  say  what  kind  of 
connection  in  time  belongs  to  the  manifold  of  the  phe- 
nomena itself,  when  the  representation  of  it  in  our 
apprehension  is  always  successive.  Thus,  for  instance, 
the  apprehension  of  the  manifold  in  the  phenomenal 
appearance  of  a  house  that  stands  before  me,  is  suc- 
cessive. The  question  then  arises,  whether  the  mani- 
fold of  the  house  itself  be  successive  by  itself,  which 
of  course  no  one  would  admit.  Whenever  I  ask  for 
the  transcendental  meaning  of  my  concepts  of  an 
object,  I  find  that  a  house  is  not  a  thing  by  itself, 
but  a  phenomenon  only,  that  is,  a  representation,  the 
transcendental  object  of  which  is  unknown.  What, 
then,  can  be  the  meaning  of  the  question,  how  the 
manifold  in  the  phenomenon  itself  (which  is  not  a 
thing  by  itself)  may  be  connected."  He  concludes: 
"The  phenomenon,  in  contradistinction  to  the  re- 
presentations of  our  apprehension,  can  only  be  repre- 
sented as  the  object  different  from  them,  if  it  is 
subject  to  a  rule  distinguishing  it  from  every  other 
apprehension  and  necessitating  a  certain  kind  of 
conjunction  of  the  manifold.  That  which  in  the  phe- 
nomenon contains  the  condition  of  this  necessary 
rule  of  apprehension  is  the  object."  (Page  155.) 

Kant's  entire  discussion  of  this  subject  is  hopelessly 
confused  by  his  doctrine  of  phenomena  which  are 
only  representations.  He  really  has,  when  we  take 

93 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

his  doctrine  at  all  seriously,  many  of  the  difficulties 
which  Hume  had  in  trying  to  find  anything  whatever 
that  abides,  for  phenomena  as  representations  cease 
with  the  representing,  unless  we  give  to  them  a  species 
of  thinghood  which  Kant  generally  forbids,  though 
now  and  then  he  comes  very  close  to  turning  them 
into  things  in  themselves.  He  elsewhere  speaks  of  an 
"affinity  of  phenomena"  which  constitutes  a  kind  of 
rule,  and  seems  to  constitute  a  system  of  phenomena 
themselves  which  have  apparently  their  own  nature 
apart  from  our  apprehension,  which  nature  it  is  the 
duty  of  our  apprehension  to  discover.  But  in  that 
case  phenomena  assume  a  thing-like  character  and 
his  phenomenalism  becomes  very  much  confused; 
and  if  we  do  not  take  this  view,  then  we  are  shut  up 
within  the  solipsistic  scheme.  We  should  do  better, 
therefore,  to  drop  Kant's  proof  of  the  principle  of 
causation  entirely  and  base  the  principle  upon  the 
insight  of  reason  itself.  Since  the  time  of  Hume  it  has 
been  clear  that  to  deny  causal  connection  must  end 
in  the  abstraction  of  all  experience.  This  insight,  to- 
gether with  the  fact  that  the  mind  continually  affirms 
such  connection  by  its  own  authority,  is  certainly 
proof  enough.  At  all  events  it  is  the  only  proof  we 
possess,  and  Kant's  alleged  proof  here  is  totally  in- 
consequent when  taken  in  connection  with  his  phe- 
nomenalism, and  is  not  particularly  forcible  in  any 
way.  This  is  another  case  where  Kant  has  given  poor 
reasons  for  a  philosophic  truth.  The  doctrine  stands 
in  much  clearer  evidence  when  directly  looked  at  than 
it  does  when  we  have  these  roundabout  methods, 
which  after  all  do  not  arrive. 

94 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

Kant's  argument  for  the  law  of  causality  is  essen- 
tially this,  that  the  perception  of  succession  in  the 
orderly  world  of  experience  is  impossible  without  the 
belief  in  causation.  Hence,  instead  of  deducing  the 
law  of  causation  from  succession,  we  must  really 
reverse  the  process  and  deduce  succession  from 
causality. 

This  at  first  sight  seems  plainly  false,  for  we  have  a 
great  variety  of  successions  in  consciousness  without 
any  thought  of  connecting  them  causally  with  each 
other.  For  example,  we  have  a  succession  of  feelings 
or  of  sensations  produced  in  us  we  know  not  how, 
but  we  never  think  in  such  cases  of  a  causal  connec- 
tion. Again  in  our  external  experience  we  very  often 
trace  the  temporal  order  of  phenomena  without  being 
able  to  fix  any  causal  order.  These  obvious  facts  show 
that  by  succession,  as  Kant  is  dealing  with  it  here, 
he  means  succession  in  the  systematic  world  of  ex- 
perience, and  here  it  is  plain  that  there  is  a  truth  in 
Kant's  view.  If  we  ask  how  it  would  be  possible  to 
form  any  articulate  conception  of  the  world  of  suc- 
cession, it  is  plain  that  we  could  do  it  only  as  we  fur- 
ther affirm  some  principle  of  connection  underlying 
the  successions  and  giving  to  them  that  internal  con- 
nection which  Hume  meant  to  deny  when  he  rejected 
the  law  of  causation.  And  the  chaos  [resulting  from 
the  denial  of  this]  law  of  thought  shows  indirectly  the 
truth  of  Kant's  claim  that  without  this  connection 
of  causality  there  would  be  no  order  of  experience. 
In  this  sense,  then,  we  allow  the  truth  of  Kant's  claim, 
but  we  cannot  speak  very  highly  of  the  argument 
which  he  gives.  By  causality  in  sequence  we  com- 

95 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

monly  understand  that  the  antecedent  determines 
the  consequent,  that  is,  produces  it  or  causes  it  to  be. 
Kant,  however,  weakens  the  meaning  so  as  to  regard 
causality  as  merely  succession  according  to  a  rule. 
To  be  sure  he  now  and  then  speaks  of  a  necessity  in 
the  rule,  but  seldom.  In  the  argument  here  Kant 
seems  to  be  about  as  much  concerned  with  the  proof 
of  objective  reality,  that  is,  of  the  first  analogy,  as 
he  is  with  causality,  or  the  second  analogy.  He  points 
out  that  we  may  have  a  variety  of  subjective  appre- 
hensions, but  these  are  not  objects.  And  the  ques- 
tion arises,  What  is  it  that  turns  the  subjective  appre- 
hensions and  their  sequences  into  real  objects  with 
real  connections  among  them?  The  former  are  not 
objects  because  they  are  in  my  power.  They  become 
objects  only  when  we  find  uniformity  in  their  con- 
nection; that  is,  when  they  become  independent  of  our 
volition  and  their  sequences  become,  so  far  as  we  are 
concerned,  fixed. 

As  just  said,  this  means  the  argument  for  the  sec- 
ond analogy  runs  into  that  for  the  first,  and  indeed, 
if  this  argument  be  allowed,  the  preceding  argument 
for  the  first  analogy  becomes  only  secondary  and 
really  depends  upon  the  argument  for  the  second 
analogy.  There  are  further  difficulties  here  as  to  the 
location  of  this  causality.  The  necessity  of  affirming 
causality  somewhere  may  be  admitted,  but  its  nature 
and  location  are  not  thereby  determined.  For  scien- 
tific purposes  we  are  really  concerned  here  not  with 
causality  but  with  the  rule,  that  is,  with  the  uni- 
formities of  connection  among  phenomena.  The 
cause  itself  might  not  appear  in  the  phenomenal 

96 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

series  at  all,  but  might  rather  be  something  apart 
from  it,  producing  the  phenomenal  series  in  a  fixed 
order,  but  yet  in  such  a  way  that  the  productive 
causality  would  always  lie  without  the  series.  Thus 
a  musician  might  produce  a  series  of  sounds,  or  the 
operator  of  a  stereoscope  might  cast  a  series  of  views 
upon  a  screen,  but  there  would  really  be  no  causality 
among  the  relations  of  the  sounds  or  views.  While 
the  effects  in  such  cases  would  have  to  be  referred 
to  causality  somewhere,  they  need  not  by  any  means 
be  referred  to  their  phenomenal  antecedents,  but  only 
to  their  dynamic  ground,  which  consists  along  with 
them,  but  in  no  way  appears  within  the  series  of 
effects.  We  might,  therefore,  have  a  conception  of 
science  quite  different  from  that  which  Kant  is  set- 
ting forth  here.  We  might  confine  ourselves  to  the 
study  of  the  uniformities  of  coexistence  and  sequence 
in  the  space  and  time  world,  without  really  raising  the 
question  of  causality  at  all,  and  so  long  as  this  uni- 
formity was  maintained,  we  should  have  all  the  con- 
trol of  phenomena  which  we  now  possess  and  a  great 
deal  of  knowledge  which  would  practically  be  very 
important.  It  is  only,  then,  in  the  sense  that  causality 
must  be  affirmed  somewhere  without  deciding  as  to 
its  nature  and  location  or  the  form  of  its  manifesta- 
tion, that  we  can  accept  Kant's  deduction  in  any  case. 
But  a  very  much  greater  difficulty  emerges,  arising 
from  Kant's  doctrine  of  phenomena,  which  at  this 
phase  of  the  discussion  is  becoming  very  marked. 
Causal  relations  in  any  case  can  exist  only  between 
realities,  veritable  substantial  things.  And  if  phe- 
nomena are,  as  Kant  says,  only  representations  in  us, 

97 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

then  it  becomes  quite  absurd  to  speak  of  their  having 
causal  relations  to  one  another.  Kant  does  not  suc- 
ceed in  giving  his  phenomena  any  true  objectivity. 
When  asked  what  constitutes  their  objectivity  he 
says,  "We  find  that  it  consists  in  nothing  but  the 
rendering  necessary  the  connection  of  representa- 
tions in  a  certain  way,  and  subjecting  them  to  a  rule; 
and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  they  receive  their 
objective  character  only  because  a  certain  order  is 
necessary  in  the  time  relations  of  our  representa- 
tions." (Page  161.) 

Now  in  this  passage  phenomena  are  reduced  to  our 
representations,  and  their  objectivity  is  simply  the 
fact  that  they  are  subjected  to  a  rule,  but  this  in  no 
way  puts  them  beyond  the  mind  itself.  It  leaves  them 
still  within  the  subjective  circle  of  our  consciousness, 
and  gives  us  nothing  that  can  be  called  an  object 
capable  of  existing  by  itself  and  maintaining  causal 
relations  with  other  things.  Here,  then,  in  Kant's 
doctrine  of  phenomena  we  find  a  really  insoluble 
difficulty.  If  he  would  leave  the  phenomena  some 
kind  of  thinghood,  we  then  might  make  a  shift  to 
affirm  causal  relation  among  them;  or  if  he  would 
regard  the  system  of  phenomena  as  continually  pro- 
duced by  a  causality  beyond  them,  again  we  could 
give  to  them  a  certain  objectivity  and  could  also  find 
a  place  for  causality  in  producing  their  fixed  rela- 
tions; but  apart  from  this  we  must  say  that  there  is 
really  no  thoroughfare  and  that  the  system  here 
breaks  down. 

And  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  third  analogy, 
which  relates  to  the  interaction  of  substances.  This 

98 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

Kant  calls  the  principle  of  community  and  states  it  as 
follows:  "All  substances,  in  so  far  as  they  are  coex- 
istent, stand  in  complete  community,  that  is,  reci- 
procity one  to  another."  In  the  second  edition  Kant 
changes  this  to  read  as  follows:  "All  substances,  so 
far  as  they  can  be  perceived  as  coexistent  in  space, 
are  always  affecting  each  other  reciprocally."  Here 
Kant  assumes  that  the  process,  by  which  we  become 
aware  of  coexistent  things  in  the  world  of  nature, 
implies  the  assumption  of  reciprocal  action  just  as 
the  process,  by  which  we  become  aware  of  succession 
in  the  world  of  nature,  implies  the  principle  of  causal- 
ity. And  here,  too,  much  the  same  thing  can  be  said 
as  in  the  previous  case.  It  is  manifest  that  no  con- 
nected experience  of  things  is  possible  without  this 
fact  of  mutual  relation,  for  if  we  should  suppose  a 
world  of  things  to  exist  in  which  this  reciprocal  rela- 
tion was  wanting,  it  could  in  no  way  be  known,  for 
nothing  whatever  that  occurred  in  such  a  world 
would  ever  be  any  reason  for  affirming  anything 
beyond  the  knowing  agent  himself.  There  being  no 
interaction  he  would  necessarily  be  shut  up  within 
the  solipsistic  circle,  and  could  by  no  possibility  reach 
a  world  of  other  things.  In  such  a  system  nothing 
whatever  that  happens  in  one  thing  would  be  any 
warrant  whatever  for  anything  that  might  happen 
in  other  things,  and  by  consequence  there  could  never 
be  any  passage  from  one  thing  to  any  other  thing 
whatever.  In  such  a  case  any  event  would  be  an 
unrelated  beginning.  The  universe  would  fall  asunder 
into  unconnected  and  uncaused  units,  and  thought 
would  become  impossible.  We  must,  then,  affirm 

99 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

some  sort  of  causality  and  reciprocal  action  under- 
lying the  mutual  relations  of  things  as  the  possibility 
of  any  experience  whatever  of  them. 

So  much  is  manifest  upon  inspection,  but  here 
again  the  certainty  that  there  is  causal  interaction 
in  the  case  by  no  means  decides  where  we  are  to 
locate  this  causality  or  how  we  are  to  conceive  it. 
For  scientific  purposes  and  for  all  practical  purposes 
it  suffices  to  affirm  an  order  of  concomitant  variation 
so  that  the  changes  of  things  shall  form  a  system  in 
accordance  with  which  we  can  find  our  way  from 
any  one  thing  to  any  other.  But  the  underlying 
causality  might  conceivably  be  entirely  apart  from 
the  system  of  concomitant  changes,  not  being  in- 
cluded in  them,  but  producing  them  from  without 
in  accordance  with  a  system  of  uniform  rules.  In 
that  case  we  should  have  all  that  science  would  need 
for  its  purposes,  but  the  metaphysical  doctrine  would 
take  on  a  very  different  form. 

The  same  difficulty  previously  pointed  out  with 
reference  to  Kant's  doctrine  of  causality  reappears 
here.  "Phenomena,  as  being  contained  in  a  possible 
experience,  must  share  a  communion  of  appercep- 
tion, and  if  the  objects  are  to  be  represented  as 
connected  in  coexistence,  they  must  reciprocally 
determine  their  place  in  time,  and  thus  constitute 
a  whole.  If  this  subjective  communion  is  to  rest  on 
an  objective  ground,  or  is  to  refer  to  phenomena  as 
substances,  then  the  perception  of  the  one  as  cause 
must  render  possible  the  perception  of  the  other,  and 
vice  versa;  so  that  the  succession  which  always  exists 
in  perceptions,  as  apprehensions,  may  not  be  attrib- 

100 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

uted  to  the  objects,  but  that  the  objects  should  be 
represented  as  existing  simultaneously.  This  is  a 
reciprocal  influence,  that  is,  a  real  commercium  of 
substances,  without  which  the  empirical  relation  of 
coexistence  would  be  impossible  in  our  experience." 
(Page  174.) 

Here  again  Kant  is  trying  to  rest  the  subjective 
communion  on  an  objective  ground,  or  to  refer  to 
phenomena  as  substances.  Of  course  this  is  impossible 
if  by  phenomena  we  mean  only  our  subjective  ap- 
prehensions, for  we  cannot  regard  these  as  mutually 
interacting  and  constituting  an  objective  world.  He 
continues:  "By  nature  (in  the  empirical  sense  of  the 
word)  we  mean  the  coherence  of  phenomena  in  their 
existence,  according  to  necessary  rules,  that  is,  laws. 
There  are  therefore  certain  laws,  and  they  exist 
a  priori,  which  themselves  make  nature  possible, 
while  the  empirical  laws  exist  and  are  discovered 
through  experience,  but  in  accordance  with  those 
original  laws  which  first  render  experience  possible. 
Our  analogies,  therefore,  represent  the  unity  of  nature 
in  the  coherence  of  all  phenomena,  under  certain 
exponents,  which  express  the  relation  of  time  (as 
comprehending  all  existence)  to  the  unity  of  apper- 
ception, which  apperception  can  only  take  place  in 
the  synthesis  according  to  rules.  The  three  analo- 
gies, therefore,  simply  say  that  all  phenomena  exist  in 
one  nature  and  must  so  exist  because,  without  such 
unity  a  priori,  no  unity  of  experience,  and  therefore 
no  determination  of  objects  in  experience,  would  be 
possible."  (Page  176.) 

The  matter  given  by  Kant  in  the  "Axioms  of 

101 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

Intuition,"  the  "Anticipations  of  Perception,"  and 
the  "Analogies  of  Experience,"  constitutes  Kant's 
attempt  to  explain  the  possibility  of  science.  As  we 
have  already  seen,  it  is  of  a  somewhat  doubtful  char- 
acter. The  axioms  of  intuition  and  the  anticipations 
of  perception  directly  result  from  the  character  of 
objects,  as  in  space  and  time,  but  [the  matter]  given 
in  the  analogies  of  experience  is  far  more  doubtful. 
As  we  have  just  pointed  out,  this  whole  metaphysical 
apparatus,  while  true  from  the  standpoint  of  meta- 
physical thought,  is  very  far  from  deciding  what  form 
it  shall  take  on  in  properly  scientific  investigation. 
For  scientific  purposes  we  need  nothing  whatever 
beyond  the  uniformities  of  coexistence  and  sequence 
in  the  space  and  time  world,  together  with  a  certain 
continuity  of  meaning  or  logical  identity  through  the 
spatial  and  temporal  changes.  On  this  basis  it  is 
possible  for  us  to  get  the  uniformities  of  the  world  of 
experience  and  the  laws  of  phenomenal  change,  and 
anything  beyond  this  must  be  handed  over  to  meta- 
physics and  is  in  no  way  to  be  looked  upon  as  neces- 
sary to  physical  science.  Kant's  conception  of  phys- 
ics was  essentially  that  of  mathematical  physics  such 
as  had  been  inaugurated  by  Newton  in  his  mechanical 
philosophy.  In  the  progress  of  scientific  and  specu- 
lative thought,  however,  we  have  come  to  make  a 
division  of  labor  between  science  and  philosophy 
which  is  of  real  importance  to  both.  Science  does  not 
care  what  we  call  the  factors  of  experience,  whether 
we  call  them  things  or  phenomena  or  unknowable  or 
even  nothing.  We  find  in  experience  itself  certain 
uniformities,  the  knowledge  of  which  is  practically 

102 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

valuable.  We  also  find  that  by  modifying  antecedents 
we  can  modify  consequents.  This  is  a  knowledge  we 
need  for  the  practical  control  of  experience  and  the 
order  of  life,  and  given  this  knowledge  science  can 
go  on  without  any  further  metaphysical  assistance. 
Accordingly  for  science  the  permanence  of  substance 
becomes  only  a  certain  fixity  of  quantitative  rela- 
tions among  objective  phenomena.  Causality  be- 
comes a  certain  uniformity  of  sequence,  and  inter- 
action becomes  an  order  of  concomitant  variation 
among  phenomena.  Anything  beyond  this  is  handed 
over  to  metaphysics,  where  it  really  belongs.  Meta- 
physics has  to  decide  what  substance  and  causality 
and  identity  and  the  other  metaphysical  categories 
really  mean,  and  reflection  shows  that  in  any  case 
they  cannot  be  taken  in  the  sense  that  Kant  has  given 
them  in  this  exposition. 

The  final  division  in  this  Analytic  of  Principles  is 
the  "Postulates  of  Empirical  Thought  in  General." 
What  Kant  has  to  say  on  this  subject  is  of  no  par- 
ticular importance.  He  lays  down  the  following 
postulates:  — 

(1)  "WThat  agrees  with  the  formal  conditions  of 
experience   (in   intuition   and  in  concepts)   is  pos- 
sible. 

(2)  "  What  is  connected  with  the  material  condi- 
tions of  experience  (sensation)  is  real. 

(3)  "  That  which,  in  its  connection  with  the  real, 
is  determined  by  universal  conditions  of  experience, 
is  (exists  as)  necessary." 

Kant  says:  "The  principles  of  modality  are  nothing 
but  explanations  of  the  concepts  of  possibility,  reality, 

103 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

and  necessity,  in  their  empirical  employment,  con- 
fining all  categories  to  an  empirical  employment  only, 
and  prohibiting  their  transcendental  use."  The  aim, 
then,  seems  to  be  to  determine  with  regard  to  any 
conception  the  way  in  which  we  shall  regard  it, 
whether  as  possible,  real,  or  as  necessary;  and  the 
answer  is  that  only  those  things  should  be  regarded 
as  possible,  of  which  the  concepts  agree  with  the  for- 
mal conditions  of  experience,  that  is,  only  such  things 
are  possible  for  us.  The  real  for  us  is  that  which  is 
connected  with  the  material  conditions  of  experience, 
and  thus  is  given  as  actual,  and  the  necessary  is 
that  which,  as  determined  by  universal  conditions  of 
experience,  is  always  given  and  hence  is  necessary. 
This  fact  is  very  far  from  throwing  much  light  on  the 
general  subject.  The  limit  of  the  real  to  that  which 
is  actually  given  in  sensation  depends  upon  Kant's 
previous  limitation  of  the  categories.  In  a  very  dif- 
ferent sense,  however,  it  is  possible  to  say  there  may 
well  be  realities  under  and  above  the  range  of  our  ex- 
perience, sensuous  or  otherwise.  As  to  necessity,  again, 
there  is  nothing  whatever  in  the  continual  presence  of 
a  fact  in  experience  to  warrant  us  in  calling  it  neces- 
sary. It  is  simply  a  uniformity  in  experience  which 
we  find  and  recognize.  Indeed,  this  notion  of  neces- 
sity is  one  of  the  most  empty  and  baseless  in  human 
thought  when  metaphysically  taken.  The  only  neces- 
sity of  which  we  have  any  experience  is  the  necessities 
of  thought,  and  these  apply  solely  to  the  logical  rela- 
tions of  ideas.  In  concrete  experience  nothing  can  be 
found  but  uniformity.  The  ground  of  this  uniform- 
ity may  be  independent  of  ourselves,  and  hence  the 

104 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

order,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned,  may  be  necessary 
in  the  sense  of  being  independent  of  us;  but  this 
will  never  warrant  us  in  affirming  it  to  be  neces- 
sary in  itself.  Moreover,  the  notion  of  metaphysical 
necessity  cancels  itself.  Applied  to  the  world  of  real- 
ity it  either  brings  things  to  a  standstill  or  else 
it  must  itself  be  subject  to  change;  for  there  is  no 
way  of  connecting  a  rigid  necessity  with  a  moving 
world. 

The  necessity  itself,  then,  must  change,  and  for 
this  we  should  need  some  other  necessity,  unless  we 
are  to  fall  into  the  Heraclitic  flux;  but  this  new 
necessity  would  be  in  the  same  condition,  and  thus 
we  should  be  on  our  way  to  the  infinite  regress. 
Finally,  possibility  is  even  more  doubtful  still.  As 
used  in  popular  speech  it  has  a  variety  of  meanings. 
Thus,  that  is  possible  which  involves  no  contradiction. 
This  is  logical  possibility,  and  means  only  conceiv- 
ability.  Or,  that  is  possible  which,  for  all  we  know, 
may  happen  or  may  have  happened.  This  possibil- 
ity is  only  an  expression  of  our  ignorance.  Or,  that 
is  possible  which  would  happen  if  certain  conditions 
were  fulfilled.  This  merely  expresses  the  order  of 
conditioned  events;  but  so  long  as  the  condition  is 
unfulfilled  the  event  is  impossible,  and  when  it  is  ful- 
filled the  event  is  not  only  possible  but  actual.  The 
only  clear  meaning  to  possibility  is  based  upon  the 
self-determination  of  a  free  agent.  Apart  from  this 
it  is  nothing.  In  reality,  then,  apart  from  the  sphere 
of  freedom,  the  only  possible  is  the  implications  of 
the  actual.  Many  other  things  may  be  conceived, 
but  they  are  impossible  as  not  founded  in  the  real. 

105 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

If,  then,  we  would  know  what  is  concretely  or  really 
possible,  we  must  have  a  complete  insight  into  the 
nature  and  implications  of  reality  itself. 

In  the  first  edition  Kant's  critics  regarded  his  work 
as  essentially  idealistic.  This  moved  him  in  the  sec- 
ond edition,  in  connection  with  this  discussion,  to 
produce  a  disproof  of  idealism.  He  lays  down  the 
following  theorem:  "The  simple,  but  empirically  de- 
termined consciousness  of  my  own  existence  proves 
the  existence  of  objects  in  space  outside  myself"; 
and  he  offers  the  following  proof:  "I  am  conscious 
of  my  own  existence  as  determined  in  time,  and  all 
determination  in  time  presupposes  something  per- 
manent in  the  perception.  That  permanent,  however, 
cannot  be  an  intuition  within  me,  because  all  the 
causes  which  determine  my  existence,  so  far  as  they 
can  be  found  within  me,  are  representations,  and  as 
such  require  themselves  something  permanent,  differ- 
ent from  them,  in  reference  to  which  their  change, 
and  therefore  my  existence  in  time  in  which  they 
change,  may  be  determined.  The  perception  of  this 
permanent,  therefore,  is  possible  only  through  a  thing 
outside  me,  and  not  through  the  mere  representation 
of  a  thing  outside  me,  and  the  determination  of  my 
existence  in  time  is,  consequently,  possible  only  by  the 
existence  of  real  things,  which  I  perceive  outside 
me.  Now,  as  the  consciousness  in  time  is  necessarily 
connected  with  the  consciousness  of  the  possibility  of 
that  determination  of  time,  it  is  also  necessarily  con- 
nected with  the  existence  of  things  outside  me,  as 
the  condition  of  the  determination  of  time.  In  other 
words,  the  consciousness  of  my  own  existence  is,  at  the 

106 


THE  PURE  UNDERSTANDING 

same  time,  an  immediate  consciousness  of  the  exist- 
ence of  other  things."  (Page  779.) 

It  is  not  strange  that  Kant's  critics  should  have 
regarded  this  passage  as  an  inconsistency  on  his  part. 
In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  clear  what  something  "per- 
manent in  the  perception"  is  to  mean  other  than 
that  experience  of  whatever  kind  must  have  some 
fixed  significance.  And  since  on  Kant's  own  view  it 
is  the  mind  which  gives  this  permanence  to  experi- 
ence, it  is  by  no  means  clear  that  there  must  be  some- 
thing permanent  outside  myself  in  order  to  make  ex- 
perience possible.  But  further  Kant  here  makes  a 
sharp  distinction  between  all  internal  facts  as  mere 
representations,  which  as  such  require  something  per- 
manent beyond  them,  and  the  perception  of  this  per- 
manent as  possible  only  through  "a  thing  outside  me 
and  not  through  the  mere  representation  of  a  thing 
outside  me."  It  is  made  possible  only  through  "the 
existence  of  real  things  which  I  perceive  outside  me." 
This  seems  to  give  a  very  substantial  character  to 
things  and  a  fairly  independent  character  to  space, 
about  as  much  so  as  a  thoroughgoing  realist  would  de- 
sire. If  these  phrases  are  to  be  taken  in  their  obvious 
significance  Kant  returns  to  the  good  old-fashioned 
realism;  and  if  they  are  not  to  be  so  taken,  then  he 
does  not  differ  from  the  idealist  in  his  result,  but  only 
in  his  theory  of  knowledge.  Kant  and  Berkeley,  after 
all,  seemed  to  differ  not  so  much  in  the  idealistic  out- 
come as  in  their  doctrine  of  knowledge.  Certainly 
Berkeley  would  not  have  wished  for  anything  more 
immaterial  than  Kant's  view  becomes  when  it  is  con- 
sistently and  directly  interpreted.  In  fact,  Kant's  argu- 

107 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

ment  here  turns  entirely  upon  the  nature  of  self -con- 
sciousness, and  his  conclusion  really  means  only  this, 
that  self -consciousness  arises  [only  in  connection  with 
the  consciousness]  of  objects,  whatever  they  may  be. 
In  other  words,  there  is  no  abstract  self  existing  apart 
from  and  before  all  of  our  consciousnesses,  but  self- 
consciousness  is  realized  only  in  and  through  or  in 
connection  with  the  consciousness  of  objects  nominal 
or  otherwise.  This  fact  may  be  admitted  by  any 
idealist  who  objects  not  to  the  world  of  experience, 
as  having  significance  for  self -consciousness,  but  to  a 
world  of  impersonal  things  existing  apart  from  all 
consciousness  and  simply  recognized  by  us. 

It  may  be  objected  that  in  this  argument  of  Kant's 
the  contradiction  disappears  when  we  remember  his 
doctrine  of  the  empirical  reality  of  space  and  its 
transcendental  ideality.  In  that  case  we  only  have 
the  problem  before  us  which  has  long  been  threaten- 
ing to  come  up,  namely,  Kant's  general  doctrine  of 
noumena  and  the  relativity  of  our  forms  of  thought 
in  general.  To  this  problem  we  now  address  ourselves. 


PHENOMENA   AND   NOUMENA 

BEGINNING  with  the  discussion  of  space  and  time 
Kant  introduces  his  doctrine  of  phenomenal  know- 
ledge. Things  in  space  are  only  phenomena,  and  all 
the  understanding  does  in  connection  with  them  is 
to  give  these  phenomena  a  substantial  form  and  ra- 
tional relations  by  bringing  the  categories  of  thought 
into  the  intuitions  of  sense.  But  these  categories 
apply  only  to  phenomena  and  have  no  contents  in 
themselves  apart  from  the  phenomena  to  which  they 
are  applied.  This  is  Kant's  theory  of  phenomenalism. 
In  opposition  to  Hume  he  holds  an  elaborate  mental 
activity  in  the  process  of  knowledge,  but  he  comes 
around  very  close  to  Hume  in  the  end,  by  saying 
that  this  knowledge  is  limited  entirely  within  the 
sphere  of  sense  experience.  Anything  lying  beyond 
this  sphere  may  possibly  be  an  object  of  belief,  but 
can  never  be  properly  an  object  of  knowledge. 

Strangely  enough,  Kant  nowhere  discusses  what 
the  meaning  of  phenomenon  is  to  be.  He  seems  to 
take  the  conception  for  granted,  and  having  called 
substantial  objects  phenomenal  assumes  that  the 
matter  is  perfectly  plain.  In  fact,  however,  this  doc- 
trine of  phenomenal  knowledge  is  somewhat  obscure 
in  its  best  estate,  and  in  any  case  is  much  more  com- 
plex than  commonly  appears.  The  term  itself  is 
allied  to  the  visual  sense  or  to  the  facts  of  vision,,  and 

109 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

the  explanations  of  the  doctrine  and  arguments  for 
it  are  commonly  drawn  from  the  field  of  vision.  We 
are  all  familiar  with  the  fact  that  things  by  no  means 
always  look  as  we  have  to  think  of  them.  In  such 
cases  the  conception  of  the  distinction  between 
appearance  and  reality  is  easily  made.  In  perspec- 
tive, parallels  look  like  converging  lines.  The  circle 
when  looked  at  out  of  the  perpendicular  seems  ellipti- 
cal. The  cube  never  looks  like  a  cube  to  the  unaided 
eye.  And  in  general  the  whole  series  of  visual  objects 
make  us  familiar  with  the  distinction  between  things 
as  they  appear  and  things  as  they  are.  The  eye  is  per- 
petually misleading  us  in  this  respect,  and  thought 
is  continually  required  to  dispel  the  false  appearance 
or  to  rectify  the  visual  appearance  and  reduce  it  to 
its  proper  significance.  Facts  of  this  kind  easily  lead 
to  the  notion  that  the  objects  of  knowledge  may  after 
all  be  only  appearances,  and  that  the  true  thing  may 
continually  elude  us.  By  keeping  these  facts  of  visual 
experience  in  mind  and  then  generalizing  the  problem, 
we  may  say  we  know  only  appearances  and  do  not 
know  things  as  they  are.  And  this  seems  to  be  the 
way  in  which  Kant,  among  the  rest,  tacitly  proceeded. 
He  decided  that  spatial  objects  are  phenomenal,  and 
being  phenomena  are  to  be  distinguished  from  true 
things,  and  thus  we  have  the  doctrine  of  phenomenal- 
ism. 

But  all  of  this  is  rather  hasty,  to  say  the  least,  and 
is  far  enough  from  founding  the  doctrine  that  our 
knowledge  is  not  of  reality  but  only  of  appearances. 
To  begin  with,  in  the  space  world,  where  this  dis- 
tinction is  most  at  home,  we  distinguish  between  the 

110 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

varying  appearance  due  to  the  laws  of  perspective 
and  the  general  laws  of  vision  and  a  thing  as  it  exists 
for  our  non-visual  mathematical  conceptions  and  in 
geometrical  relations.  We  know  perfectly  well  that 
the  converging  tracks  of  the  railroad  do  not  really 
converge,  and  we  understand,  the  reason  for  the  ap- 
parent convergences.  Similarly  we  allow  for  all  the 
other  misleading  appearances  in  vision  in  general. 
We  continually  test  them  by  our  fixed  geometrical 
conceptions,  which  give  the  real  nature  and  relations 
of  the  things.  There  is  nothing  whatever  in  such  facts 
to  suggest  that  perhaps  our  doctrine  of  the  cube  or 
the  square  or  the  triangle  is  only  an  appearance  or 
point  of  view.  On  the  contrary,  we  know  very  well 
that  our  knowledge  of  these  things  is  absolute  so  far 
as  it  goes. 

When  from  considerations  of  this  kind  we  next 
conclude  that  we  cannot  tell  what  things  are  in  them- 
selves, it  is  manifest  that  we  overlook  the  fact  that 
space  experience  is  by  no  means  the  only  way  in 
which  we  get  a  knowledge  of  things.  To  a  very  large 
extent  our  knowledge  of  things  consists  in  a  know- 
ledge of  relations.  We  get  a  true  knowledge  of  the 
relations  of  space  and  time  phenomena  under  the 
geometrical  and  numerical  form.  And  the  knowledge 
we  thus  get  is  not  exposed,  so  far  as  appears,  to  any 
claim  of  being  only  a  knowledge  of  appearances.  The 
things  in  themselves  with  which  we  are  dealing  are 
spatial  and  temporal  relations;  but  the  knowledge 
that  is  given  is  not  a  phenomenal  knowledge,  but  a 
true  knowledge  of  the  relations  of  these  things.  Thus 
it  would  be  absurd  in  the  highest  degree  to  say  that 

111 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

a  geometrical  proposition  respecting  the  triangle  is 
true  only  of  the  phenomenal  triangle  and  not  of  the 
triangle  in  itself.  The  phenomenal  triangle  is  the  only 
triangle  there  is,  and  our  knowledge  of  that  triangle 
is  universally  valid  for  all  who  know  what  the  term 
triangle  means.  Equally  absurd  would  it  be  to  say 
that  the  phenomenal  time  between  two  dates  is  of 
a  certain  length,  but  of  the  real  time  we  can  say 
nothing;  for  the  time  between  the  dates  is  as  real  as 
the  dates  themselves  and  the  only  time  there  is.  Our 
knowledge,  then,  of  that  time  is  valid  for  all  who 
understand  the  problem.  Again,  numerical  know- 
ledge may  apply  only  to  phenomena,  but  the  know- 
ledge itself  is  not  phenomenal  but  valid,  that  is,  real 
in  the  only  sense  in  which  knowledge  can  be  real. 

This  suggests  to  us  at  the  start  that  the  concep- 
tion of  phenomenal  knowledge,  in  so  far  as  it  denies 
real  knowledge  or  knowledge  of  things,  is  somewhat 
obscure.  It  is  manifest  that  the  knowledge  of  phe- 
nomena may  be  perfectly  real  in  its  own  field  and 
perfectly  valid  for  all  intelligent  beings  who  deal 
with  the  phenomena  in  question.  For  instance,  we 
might  query  whether  angels  are  acquainted  with  our 
human  geometry  and  the  measurements  which  take 
place  under  them.  If  they  are  so  acquainted  they 
must  reach  the  same  results  geometrically  that  we  do 
in  any  given  case.  The  contents  of  a  solid,  the  dis- 
tance between  two  points,  etc.,  when  geometrically 
given  would  be  the  same  everywhere  and  for  all.  We 
might  decide  that  space  is  phenomenal,  but  our  know- 
ledge of  space  would  be  valid  and  universal.  These 
facts  suggest  that  the  statement  that  we  know  only 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

phenomena  is  by  no  means  to  be  identified  with  the 
denial  of  universally  valid  knowledge,  for  as  yet  no- 
thing has  been  said  which  forbids  our  thinking  that 
phenomena  themselves  may  have  a  universal  char- 
acter. Indeed,  as  we  shall  later  see,  phenomena  will 
have  finally  to  be  defined  as  objects  or  phases  that 
exist  only  for  intelligence.  The  conception  of  phe- 
nomena as  masks  of  reality,  and  hence  of  phenom- 
enal knowledge  as  essentially  non-knowledge,  must 
be  definitely  set  aside  as  an  illusion.  In  its  place  phe- 
nomenal knowledge  will  be  defined  as  the  knowledge 
of  phenomena,  and  phenomena  will  represent  the 
aspect  of  reality  for  intelligence,  our  own  certainly 
and  possibly  for  all  intelligence.  In  that  case  phe- 
nomenal knowledge  will  be  the  only  knowledge  we 
could  have  and  the  only  knowledge  worth  having, 
for  if  we  can  tell  what  things  must  be  for  intelli- 
gence we  can  cheerfully  forego  knowing  what  they 
are  apart  from  any  relation  to  intelligence.  We  shall 
hereafter  see  that  they  are  nothing  in  that  relation. 

Again,  the  doubt  as  to  our  knowledge  of  reality 
which  is  based  upon  the  phenomena  of  visual  sense 
overlooks  the  fact  that  our  knowledge  of  causes  does 
not  depend  at  all  upon  how  they  look,  but  on  how 
they  act.  The  causal  relation  belongs  to  the  unpic- 
turable  ideas  of  the  understanding  and  can  in  no  way 
be  sensuously  perceived.  It  is,  therefore,  purely 
a  thought  problem,  and  the  solution  of  it  consists 
entirely  in  the  telling  how  things  act  or  in  finding  the 
laws  of  their  activity.  In  this  way  we  get  our  know- 
ledge of  the  mind,  not  through  any  sensuous  or  spa- 
tial intuition  of  it,  but  rather  by  experience  of  its 

H3 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

modes  of  activity.  Thus  also  we  get  the  laws  of  heat, 
gravity,  electricity,  etc.  It  never  occurs  to  us  to  ask 
how  these  things  look,  for  we  know  that  they  do  not 
look  at  all.  And  equally  it  does  not  occur  to  us  on 
this  account  to  doubt  that  we  have  a  very  valuable 
and  valid  knowledge  of  these  things  when  we  have 
discovered  the  laws  of  their  activity.  This  fact,  then, 
that  we  know  causes  through  their  effects  and  the 
laws  of  their  action,  makes  it  entirely  impossible  for 
us  to  assume  a  failure  of  knowledge  because  of  our 
inability  to  perceive  these  objects  before  the  visual 
sense.  We  cannot  of  course  see  the  law  of  gravity, 
but  the  astronomer  has  no  doubt  that  he  has  truly 
formulated  its  law.  Neither  can  we  see  mind,  and  yet 
we  believe  that  we  have  a  considerable  knowledge  of 
it  in  experience. 

Facts  of  this  kind  warn  us  against  hastily  building 
up  a  doctrine  of  phenomenal  knowledge  on  the  basis 
of  visual  experience.  The  facts  of  vision  may  serve 
to  suggest  to  us  the  possibility  that  we  know  only 
appearances,  but  then  the  problem  itself  is  so  much 
larger  than  the  mere  visual  sense  that  we  need  more 
carefully  to  analyze  it  before  despairing  of  know- 
ledge. And,  first  of  all,  we  must  consider  some  features 
of  knowledge  itself. 

In  general  all  knowing  implies  the  existence  of  the 
object  as  something  independent  of  the  knowing, 
that  is,  as  something  existing  apart  from  the  knowing 
act  but  as  revealed  through  that  act.  All  the  objects 
of  perception,  therefore,  immediately  take  on  the 
character  of  objectivity;  that  is,  of  independence  of 
the  knowing  and  in  our  own  case  of  the  knower.  They 

114 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

are  things  to  be  perceived  or  they  are  facts  of  the  inner 
life,  and  the  function  of  thought  is  not  to  make  the 
facts  but  to  report  them.  We  are  not,  then,  dealing 
with  our  subjective  states  or  with  appearances,  but 
with  things;  of  course  things  in  their  proper  sphere. 
Indeed,  this  objectivity  in  the  sense  of  independence 
of  the  knowing  is  inherent  in  the  very  nature  of  the 
judgment  itself.  If  we  ask  what  the  judgment  means, 
we  find  it  always  relates  itself  to  some  assumed  order 
of  facts  and  relations,  which  the  judgment  does  not 
make  but  finds  and  reports.  Thus  a  mathematical 
judgment  expresses  some  fixed  relation  in  mathemat- 
ical ideas.  A  physical  judgment  expresses  some  fixed 
relation  in  the  spatial  system.  A  historical  judgment 
expresses  some  actual  occurrence  at  some  date.  An 
ethical  judgment  expresses  something  which  ought 
to  be  in  the  order  of  the  moral  reason,  etc.  In  all  of 
these  cases  the  mind  [assumes]  spontaneously  and 
necessarily  a  knowledge  [of  a  system  of]  reality  in 
some  sense,  and  its  aim  is  to  express  some  fact  or 
relation  of  that  system  of  reality.  And  even  when  we 
make  our  objects  phenomenal,  knowledge  is  equally 
objective  in  its  form.  The  phenomena  are  not  looked 
upon  merely  as  affections  of  the  individual.  They 
have  something  objective  and  universal  about  them, 
so  that  they  represent  a  common  to  all  and  not  merely 
a  special  to  me.  And  even  when  something  is  special 
to  me,  as  when  I  have  a  particular  feeling,  that  spe- 
cial to  me  is  regarded  as  a  fact  in  the  psychological 
world,  so  that  any  one  making  an  inventory  of  that 
world  would  have  to  recognize  that  fact  in  its  special 
temporal  and  psychological  context. 

115 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

This  undeniable  objectivity  in  the  form  of  know- 
ledge makes  necessary  a  great  deal  of  reflection  in 
order  to  bring  the  distinction  between  reality  and 
phenomena  into  harmony  with  the  unquestionable 
facts  of  experience.  It  is  not  true  that  the  distinction 
between  the  knowledge  of  appearances  and  the  know- 
ledge of  reality  is  obvious  either  for  spontaneous  or 
for  reflective  thought.  Certainly  unless  we  are  going 
to  give  appearance  or  phenomenon  a  much  more  ob- 
jective character  than  Kant  does  in  many  passages, 
the  result  will  be  a  failure  of  knowledge  rather  than 
any  doctrine  of  phenomenal  knowledge.  Objects  may 
be  phenomena,  but  they  must  still  be  objective  and 
common  to  all.  In  many  passages  Kant  reduces 
phenomena  to  affections  of  ourselves  and  sometimes 
even  to  affections  of  myself,  in  which  case  their 
properly  objective  character  is  denied  and  nothing 
remains  but  a  play  more  or  less  orderly  among  my 
representations,  and  then  the  system  of  objective 
experience  becomes  a  fiction  of  the  individual.  Of 
course  this  was  not  Kant's  general  view,  but  a  great 
deal  of  what  he  said  leads  up  to  it,  and  his  attempt  to 
escape  it  is  by  no  means  always  successful,  although 
his  desire  to  do  so  is  obvious  and  at  times  is  precisely 
affirmed.  Evidently  our  problem  is  much  more  com- 
plex than  at  first  sight  it  seems. 

Perhaps,  however,  we  shall  better  reach  the  Kant- 
ian standpoint  if  we  pass  at  once  to  his  conception 
of  space  and  time  and  the  phenomenality  of  all  spa- 
tial and  temporal  objects.  If  this  view  can  be  main- 
tained, then  the  space  and  time  world  becomes  phe- 
nomenal in  some  sense  not  yet  defined.  Conceivably 

116 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

it  might  mean  that  the  space  and  time  world  is  only 
a  mask  of  the  real  world  of  power  and  prevents  our 
knowing  it,  but  it  might  also  mean,  in  accordance 
with  our  previous  suggestion,  that  the  space  and  time 
world  is  the  form  under  which  the  invisible  power 
world  manifests  itself  for  intelligence.  In  that  case 
the  subjectivity  of  space  and  time  would  by  no  means 
reflect  on  the  validity  of  knowledge.  It  would  sim- 
ply limit  our  spatial  and  temporal  knowledge  to  the 
world  of  space  and  time  experience,  without  making 
it  the  existential  thing  which  the  unpicturable  world 
of  power  is  conceived  to  be. 

As  already  said,  Kant's  doctrine  of  the  subjectivity 
of  space  is  very  unsatisfactorily  deduced.  Apart  from 
the  ambiguous  conception  of  space  as  a  perception 
and  as  a  form  of  perception,  Kant's  argument  for  its 
subjectivity  seems  largely  based  on  the  existence  of 
geometry  as  a  system  of  undeniable  truth.  Hence  he 
concludes  that  space  must  be  the  form  of  our  object- 
ive sense,  as  otherwise  the  apodictic  certainty  of  geo- 
metrical truth  could  not  be  maintained.  We  have 
already  pointed  out  the  unsatisfactory  character  of 
this  reasoning.  A  priori  space  must  be  understood  in 
the  sense  that  the  space  intuition  involves  direct 
mental  insight,  but  the  important  feature  in  the  case 
is  the  insight  and  not  merely  psychological  fact  of 
any  kind.  The  pure  passivity  of  empirical  doctrine 
makes  geometry  impossible,  because  the  mind,  hav- 
ing no  insight  of  its  own,  can  only  read  off  what  it 
has  experienced  in  sense;  but  the  truths  of  geometry 
do  not  admit  of  being  sensuously  experienced.  The 
point,  the  line,  and  all  geometrical  figures  in  general, 

117 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

as  they  exist  for  mathematical  reasoning,  are  pure 
products  of  intuition.  But  it  is  only  in  this  sense  that 
our  knowledge  is  a  priori,  and  in  this  sense  it  by  no 
means  implies  that  this  knowledge  of  concepts  which 
the  mind  possesses  of  its  own  right  may  not  be  a 
knowledge  of  space  as  it  exists  for  all  intelligent 
beings.  And  the  development  of  geometrical  know- 
ledge implies  or  agrees  with  this.  We  do  not  need  any 
general  theory  of  knowledge  in  order  to  study  geo- 
metry and  be  fully  convinced  of  the  universality  of 
geometrical  truth.  We  need  only  a  mind  capable  of 
forming  the  fundamental  geometrical  conceptions 
and  of  combining  them  in  due  order  so  as  to  reach 
insight  into  the  truth.  We  cannot,  then,  conclude 
from  geometry  to  the  subjectivity  of  space.  We  can 
only  conclude  to  the  ability  of  mind  to  understand 
the  nature  of  space  and  some  of  its  implications. 

If  the  subjectivity  of  space  is  really  to  be  made 
out  it  must  be  by  a  different  course  of  reasoning.  It 
must  be  shown  that  space,  conceived  of  as  an  inde- 
pendent and  non-mental  existence,  is  something  which 
would  commit  us  to  insoluble  contradictions  and 
wreck  reason  altogether.  This  showing  Kant  has  not 
given,  but  it  is  really  the  only  thing  that  can  make 
the  argument  at  all  acceptable  or  tenable.  The  only 
thing  that  the  existence  of  space  as  a  principle  of 
mental  arrangement  does,  is  to  show  that  the  appar- 
ent independent  existence  of  space  is  not  necessary 
to  experience.  If  we  confine  ourselves  simply  to  re- 
flecting upon  our  mature  experience,  it  seems  evident 
to  us  that  space  is  undeniably  given  as  an  independ- 
ent fact  which  contains  things  within  its  extension. 

118 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

And  thus  it  might  seem  to  us  to  be  so  obviously  there 
that  no  mental  process  whatever  is  needed  for  its 
apprehension,  and  that  we  see  things  in  space  for  the 
sufficient  reason  that  they  are  in  space  and  there  is 
no  need  to  say  anything  more  about  it.  But  if  we 
recur  again  to  what  was  said  about  the  process  of 
perception,  it  will  be  seen  that  space  can  exist  for  us 
only  through  a  highly  complex  activity  of  relation  by 
the  mind  itself.  Space  relations  do  not  exist  among 
our  sense  impressions  as  affections  of  the  sensibility. 
As  such  affections  they  have  no  spatial  qualities. 
There  may  be  ideas  of  bulk,  but  there  are  no  bulky 
ideas.  There  may  be  ideas  of  distance,  but  there  are 
no  distances  between  ideas.  The  thought  life,  then, 
as  conscious  process  has  no  spatial  qualities,  and  thus 
the  problem  arises,  How  can  the  ideas  of  bulk,  dis- 
tance, direction  emerge  in  thought  which  has  no 
bulk,  distance,  or  direction?  We  have  to  deduce  spa- 
tial [objects]  and  spatial  relations  from  that  which 
is  non-spatial. 

This  problem  is  manifestly  insoluble  unless  the 
mind  posits  its  objects  and  gives  them  space  relations 
on  its  own  account.  Our  objects,  then,  are  spatially 
real  for  us  because  the  mind  thus  relates  its  objects. 
And  if  space  were  never  so  real  in  itself  it  could  not  be 
any  fact  of  experience  for  us  unless  the  mind  did  thus 
relate  its  objects.  The  possibility  of  doing  this,  even 
when  there  is  no  question  of  a  real  space  and  real 
objects,  is  seen  in  every  vivid  dream.  Dream  objects 
are  not  in  space,  but  whatever  the  form  of  [the  objects] , 
the  space  in  which  they  appear  is  not  anything  which 
contains  them.  It  is  rather  the  form  of  the  dream. 

119 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

In  such  cases  we  have  a  clear  illustration  of  the  space- 
relating  activity  of  thought  whereby  spatial  experi- 
ence is  produced.  We  need  a  space  to  hold  things  as 
little  as  we  need  a  space  to  dream  in. 

Thus  we  see  that  space  is  primarily  a  form  of 
experience.  And  experience  has  this  form  because  the 
mind  works  under  the  space  law  and  thus  gives  its 
experience  a  spatial  character.  But  still  from  this  it 
does  not  follow  that  space  is  only  the  form  of  experi- 
ence. It  is  still  possible  that  space,  in  addition  to 
being  the  form  of  experience,  may  also  be  a  something 
in  itself,  apart  from  our  experience,  and  holding  things 
in  spatial  relations  to  one  another. 

But  this  view  upon  examination  turns  out  to  be 
impossible.  If  we  take  space  as  an  ontological  fact 
and  not  merely  the  form  of  experience,  we  forthwith 
fall  into  insoluble  contradictions.  The  general  law 
of  space  conceived  of  as  existing  would  be  the  mutual 
externality  of  every  power  to  every  other,  and  as 
every  power  of  space  is  itself  spatial  we  should  have 
to  carry  the  mutual  externality  down  through  in- 
finite divisibility  to  the  point  in  space.  Under  such 
a  law  all  existence  would  be  dispersed  into  infinite 
otherness  and  externality  through  the  infinite  divis- 
ibility implicit  in  the  space  law.  This  in  itself  serves 
to  show  that  space  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  fact  of 
itself,  but  rather  as  a  form  of  experience  only,  and  in 
that  sense  subjective. 

But  here  again  we  have  to  guard  against  hasty 
conclusions.  Let  us  now  say,  space  is  subjective  and 
hence  all  things  in  space  are  subjective  and  hence 
phenomenal.  These  statements  would  be  true  in  a 

120 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

way,  but  they  could  easily  be  taken  so  as  to  be  untrue, 
and  therefore  we  have  to  determine  carefully  what 
our  terms  are  to  mean.  When  we  speak  of  anything 
as  subjective  a  double  meaning  is  possible.  We  may 
mean,  and  we  often  do  mean,  that  the  thing  is  sub- 
jective to  some  individual,  as  when  we  say  the  delu- 
sions of  a  fever  patient  are  subjective;  that  is,  they 
represent  no  independent  objects  but  merely  hallu- 
cinations of  the  disordered  mind.  Or  we  may  mean 
by  subjective  something  that  exists  only  in  and  for 
intelligence,  not  something  existing  apart  from  mind 
and  independent  of  all  consciousness.  This  ambiguity 
is  very  commonly  unsuspected  and  is  the  parent  of  a 
great  deal  of  confusion  in  this  matter  of  the  subject- 
ivity of  space.  We  may  mean  that  space  is  something 
peculiar  to  the  individual  mind  and  that  the  whole 
world  of  spatial  objects  is  within  that  individual 
mind,  in  which  case  we  arrive  at  solipsism  for  all  ob- 
jects of  experience  and  agnosticism  for  whatever  lies 
beyond.  But  we  may  say  that  space  is  subjective  to 
the  human  mind,  not  this,  [that,  or]  the  other  mind, 
but  the  human  mind  in  general.  In  this  case  we 
should  have,  in  the  world  of  objects,  a  case  of  human 
subjectivity  only;  and  we  should  be  shut  up  within 
the  range  of  human  experience  without  any  possi- 
bility of  ever  transcending  our  own  spatial  world. 
Or  again,  we  might  mean  that  space  is  subjective  in 
the  sense  that  it  has  no  meaning  or  existence  apart 
from  intelligence  somewhere.  And  it  would  be  com- 
patible with  this  view  to  assume  a  universality  of 
space  for  all  intelligence,  so  that  for  all  alike  the  space 
world  would  exist  for  and  in  intelligence,  yet  not  as 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

something  independent  of  intelligence.  Space  would 
then  have  a  true  universality  and  at  the  same  time 
a  universal  subjectivity  which  would  give  the  whole 
problem  a  very  different  aspect  from  what  it  has  when 
we  limit  space  merely  to  human  experience.  In  the 
former  case  we  have  the  same  universality  and  valid- 
ity of  space  that  we  have  in  our  traditional  view,  and 
at  the  same  time  it  would  lie  within  the  general  sphere 
of  intelligence,  and  the  difficulties  arising  from  a  sup- 
posed ontological  space  would  vanish. 

Now,  these  distinctions  escaped  Kant.  In  general 
he  viewed  space  as  a  phase  of  human  subjectivity  only, 
and  declined  to  say  anything  of  what  might  lie  be- 
yond. And  here  he  meets  a  double  difficulty.  Much 
of  Kant's  doctrine  is  solipsistic  in  its  outcome,  but 
he  escapes  this  conclusion  apparently  by  being  ig- 
norant of  the  fact.  Accordingly,  he  commonly  deals 
with  human  subjectivity  in  general  and  not  with  in- 
dividual subjectivity,  which  is  really  all  his  argument 
admits  of.  The  argument  begins  with  [the  latter].  It 
is  carried  on,  however,  on  the  basis  of  [the  former]. 
The  conclusions  are  not  for  the  individual  mind,  but 
they  are  for  all  human  minds.  But  it  would  puzzle 
Kant,  indeed,  to  combine  this  assumption  with  his 
general  doctrine  of  phenomenalism.  If  all  my  objects 
are  so  limited  by  the  categories  of  my  thought  that 
I  cannot  reach  them  as  they  are  and  must  content 
myself  with  a  set  of  appearances,  then  it  follows  that 
the  neighbors  are  also  only  a  set  of  phenomena  of  my 
own,  concerning  whom  in  reality  I  must  always  re- 
main in  utter  doubt  as  to  whether  they  exist  at  all 
in  the  form  in  which  I  think  them;  or  whether  the 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

personal  world  as  well  as  the  spatial  world  is  not 
simply  a  form  of  my  own  thinking,  which  does  not 
even  adumbrate  the  world  of  reality  beyond  it,  but 
which  has  such  a  parallax  with  that  world  that  I  may 
never  say  anything  about  it.  In  that  case  both  know- 
ledge and  life  would  be  in  a  most  forlorn  condition. 
This  result  Kant  escapes  by  apparently  never  having 
suspected  it  and  by  the  easy  fallacy  of  abstraction 
which  makes  the  human  mind  the  one  subject  of 
human  experience.  Of  course,  the  reality  is  always  a 
series  of  individual  minds  with  a  great  complexity  of 
individual  experiences. 

And  this  brings  up  another  difficulty  which  Kant 
has  not  sufficiently  considered.  It  is  necessary  in 
some  way,  if  the  object  is  not  to  be  a  mere  affection 
of  the  individual,  to  secure  some  kind  of  given  system 
in  experience  in  connection  with  which  life  and  know- 
ledge shall  go  on;  that  is,  the  system  of  phenomena, 
if  we  call  it  such,  must  take  on  an  essentially  object- 
ive character  which  is  no  mere  affection  or  product  of 
the  individual,  but  which  is  given  to  all,  so  that  from 
the  human  side  it  becomes  full  of  practical  purposes, 
essentially  a  world  of  things  and  persons  in  various 
rational  relations.  Without  this  we  fall  back  into  the 
solipsistic  circle,  and  with  this  we  have  a  new  order 
of  conception  to  recognize.  This  world  we  may  call 
subjective,  yet  it  must  be  at  the  same  timevobjective; 
that  is,  it  may  be  subjective  in  the  sense  of  existing 
only  through  and  for  intelligence,  but  it  must  also  be 
objective  in  the  sense  of  being  given  to  all,  at  least 
all  human  beings.  Kant  himself  recognized  the  need 
of  something  like  this  in  his  insistence  upon  the 

123 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

empirical  reality  of  space.  He  frequently  declares 
that  he  maintains  the  empirical  reality  of  space  along 
with  its  transcendental  ideality.  He  also  speaks  of 
the  affinity  of  phenomena  as  a  condition  of  our 
understanding  or  of  a  rule  among  phenomena  which 
determines  their  essential  relations.  In  this  view 
phenomena  begin  to  be  something  constituting  an 
objective  system,  and  certainly  independent  of  any 
individual,  however  dependent  it  may  be  upon  intel- 
ligence. Now  the  only  way  to  secure  this  result  is  a 
way  which  Kant  never  took,  but  one  which  a  disciple 
of  Kant  must  take  if  he  is  not  to  fall  into  the  Kantian 
agnosticism  and  skepticism.  First,  we  must  define 
phenomena  not  as  appearances  or  illusions  or  masks 
of  any  kind,  but  as  something  existing  only  for  and 
through  intelligence.  And  then  we  must  pass  behind 
these  phenomena  to  the  intelligence  through  and  for 
which  they  exist.  In  our  own  case  the  phenomena  of 
the  outer  sense  are  the  world  of  external  perception. 
As  phenomenal  they  exist  only  through  and  for  intel- 
ligence. We  apprehend  them  through  our  own  in- 
telligence, but  they  do  not  depend  upon  our  intelli- 
gence for  their  existence;  and  since  they  must  depend 
upon  intelligence  for  existence,  it  only  remains  that 
we  affirm  a  backlying  intelligence  as  their  cause  and 
presupposition. 

So  much  for  Kant's  doctrine  of  phenomena.  His 
doctrine  of  noumena  is  no  less  confused.  From  the 
beginning  of  the  work  Kant  recognizes  things  beyond 
ourselves  which  act  upon  us  and  produce  the  various 
affections  of  our  sensibility,  that  is,  noumena.  If  we 
leave  out  this  conception  the  doctrine  becomes  purely 

124 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

solipsistic,  and  the  world  is  merely  a  shadow  in  our 
thought  without  any  objective  cause  or  ground  what- 
ever. So  then  noumena  must  be  affirmed,  but  on  the 
other  hand,  when  we  consider  the  passages  in  which 
Kant  speaks  of  these  noumena,  they  begin  to  pass 
into  subjectivity  or  mere  forms  of  thought  without 
any  properly  independent  character  whatever.  A 
few  passages  respecting  phenomena  and  noumena 
will  indicate  the  uncertainty  of  Kant's  exposition. 
Thus,  respecting  phenomena  he  says:  "All  phenomena 
are  not  things  by  themselves,  but  only  the  play  of  our 
representations,  all  of  which  are  in  the  end  determin- 
ations only  of  the  internal  sense."  (Page  84.)  Here 
phenomena  are  in  the  plainest  way  declared  to  be  the 
play  of  our  representations.  But  in  the  same  passage 
Kant  is  looking  for  some  way  of  connection  among 
phenomena  which  shall  save  them  from  being  merely 
"a  play  of  our  representations."  Again,  "And  here 
we  must  needs  arrive  at  a  clear  understanding  of 
what  we  mean  by  an  object  of  representations.  We 
said  before  that  phenomena  are  nothing  but  sensuous 
representations,  which  therefore  by  themselves  must 
not  be  taken  for  objects  outside  our  faculty  of  repre- 
sentation. What,  then,  do  we  mean  if  we  speak  of 
an  object  corresponding  to,  and  therefore  also  differ- 
ent from  our  knowledge?"  (Page  86.)  Here  we  find 
phenomena  still  affirmed  to  be  "nothing  but  sensuous 
representations."  At  the  same  time  we  seem  to  be 
looking  for  an  "object  corresponding  to,  and  therefore 
also  different  from,  our  knowledge."  Kant  adds  that 
such  an  object  can  only  be  conceived  of  as  something 
in  general  =  x>  and  finally  decides,  as  we  have  before 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

seen,  that  objectivity  is  really  due  to  the  discovery 
of  the  unity  of  a  rule  in  the  synthesis  of  the  manifold, 
"and  the  concept  of  that  unity  is  really  the  represent- 
ation of  the  object  =  x."  This  rule  he  next  goes  on 
to  discover  in  the  transcendental  unity  of  perception. 
But  this  as  such  is  subjective  and  makes  no  provis- 
ion for  any  affinity  of  phenomena  among  themselves. 
In  another  passage  he  says:  "This  objective  ground 
of  all  association  of  phenomena  I  call  their  affinity, 
and  this  can  nowhere  be  found  except  in  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  unity  of  apperception  applied  to  all  know- 
ledge which  is  to  belong  to  me.  According  to  it  all 
phenomena,  without  exception,  must  so  enter  into  the 
mind  or  be  apprehended  as  to  agree  with  the  unity 
of  apperception."  (Page  100.)  Here  Kant  seems  to 
speak  of  an  objective  ground  of  association  of  phe- 
nomena, but  in  the  same  sentence  he  locates  it  in 
the  unity  of  perception,  which  is  subjective.  Again, 
"It  is  clear,  also,  that  as  we  can  only  deal  with  the 
manifold  in  our  representations,  and  as  the  corre- 
sponding to  them  (the  object),  since  it  is  to  be  some- 
thing different  from  all  our  representations,  is  really 
nothing  to  us,  it  is  clear,  I  say,  that  the  unity,  necessi- 
tated by  the  object,  cannot  be  anything  but  the  for- 
mal unity  of  our  consciousness  in  the  synthesis  of  the 
manifold  in  our  representations."  (Page  87.)  Here 
both  phenomena  and  the  rule  which  constitutes  their 
objectivity  seem  to  be  purely  subjective. 

Again,  "All  representations  have,  as  representa- 
tions, their  object,  and  can  themselves  in  turn  be- 
come objects  of  other  representations.  The  only 
objects  which  can  be  given  to  us  immediately  are 

126 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

phenomena,  and  whatever  in  them  refers  immediately 
to  the  object  is  called  intuition.  These  phenomena, 
however,  are  not  things  in  themselves,  but  represent- 
ations only  which  have  their  object,  but  an  object 
that  can  no  longer  be  seen  by  us,  and  may  therefore 
be  called  the  not-empirical,  that  is,  the  transcendental 
object,  =  x. 

'The  pure  concept  of  such  a  transcendental  object 
(which  in  reality  in  all  our  knowledge  is  always  the 
same  =  x)  is  that  which  alone  can  give  to  all  our  em- 
pirical concepts  a  relation  to  an  object  or  objective 
reality.  That  concept  cannot  contain  any  definite 
intuition,  and  can  therefore  refer  to  that  unity  only, 
which  must  be  found  in  the  manifold  of  our  know- 
ledge, so  far  as  it  stands  in  relation  to  an  object. 
That  relation  is  nothing  else  but  a  necessary  unity 
of  consciousness,  and  therefore  also  of  the  synthesis 
of  the  manifold,  by  a  common  function  of  the  mind 
which  unites  it  in  one  representation."  (Page  89.) 

Here  again  [Kant's  method  of  expression  is  con- 
fusing, if  not  self-contradictory.  On  the  one  hand, 
he  says  that  these  representations  have  an  object  and 
are  objects,  and  then,  on  the  other  hand,  that  they 
relate  to  a  transcendental  object  which  is  nothing 
but  a  necessary  unity  of  consciousness],  "Phenomena 
are  only  representations  of  things,  unknown  as  to 
what  they  may  be  by  themselves.  As  mere  represent- 
ations they  are  subject  to  no  law  of  connection,  except 
that  which  is  prescribed  by  the  connecting  faculty." 
(Page  765.)  In  this  last  passage,  which  is  from  the 
second  edition,  phenomena  are  representations  of 
things  which  are  unknown,  and  as  mere  representa- 

127 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

tions  are  subject  to  no  law  or  connection  except  that 
which  is  prescribed  by  the  connecting  faculty.  Here 
there  seems  to  be  no  objective  affinity  or  law  among 
the  phenomena,  and  for  all  we  can  say  the  connecting 
faculty  might  order  them  in  any  way  whatever. 

So  much  for  phenomena.  If  we  ask  what  and  where 
phenomena  are  in  the  Kantian  system,  it  is  fairly  hard 
to  tell.  They  are  objects  and  they  are  not  objects. 
They  are  a  mere  play  of  representations  and  they 
are  not  such  a  play.  His  doctrine  of  noumena  is 
equally  obscure,  as  appears  from  the  following  pass- 
ages: "All  our  representations  are  no  doubt  referred 
by  the  understanding  to  some  sort  of  object,  and 
as  phenomena  are  nothing  but  representations,  the 
understanding  refers  them  to  a  something,  as  the 
object  of  our  sensuous  intuition,  this  something 
being,  however,  the  transcendental  object  only.  This 
means  a  something  equal  to  x,  of  which  we  do  not, 
nay,  with  the  present  constitution  of  our  understand- 
ing, cannot,  know  anything,  but  which  can  only 
serve,  as  a  correlatum  of  the  unity  of  apperception, 
for  the  unity  of  the  manifold  in  sensuous  intuition, 
by  means  of  which  the  understanding  unites  the  mani- 
fold into  the  concept  of  an  object.  This  transcend- 
ental object  cannot  be  separated  from  the  sensuous 
data,  because  in  that  case  nothing  would  remain  by 
which  it  could  be  thought.  It  is  not,  therefore,  an 
object  of  knowledge  in  itself,  but  only  the  representa- 
tion of  phenomena,  under  the  concept  of  an  object 
in  general,  which  can  be  defined  by  the  manifold  of 
sensuous  intuition."  (Page  204.)  Here  it  would  seem 
that  the  transcendental  object  is  simply  an  hypos- 

128 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

tasis  of  phenomena  and  is  nothing  in  itself;  but  this 
conclusion  he  is  not  ready  to  allow,  for  he  continues : 
"It  really  follows  quite  naturally  from  the  concept  of 
a  phenomenon  in  general  that  something  must  cor- 
respond to  it,  which  in  itself  is  not  a  phenomenon, 
because  a  phenomenon  cannot  be  anything  by  itself, 
apart  from  our  mode  of  representation.  Unless, 
therefore,  we  are  to  move  in  a  constant  circle  we  must 
admit  that  the  very  word  'phenomenon'  indicates  a 
relation  to  something,  the  immediate  representation 
of  which  is  no  doubt  sensuous,  but  which  neverthe- 
less, even  without  this  qualification  of  our  sensibility 
(on  which  the  form  of  our  intuition  is  founded),  must 
be  something  by  itself,  that  is,  an  object  independent 
of  our  sensibility."  (Page  205.)  Here  Kant  affirms  ex- 
istence of  something  independent  of  our  thought  and 
sensibility  which  he  calls  "the  transcendental  object, 
that  is,  the  entirely  indefinite  thought  of  something 
in  general.  This  cannot  be  called  the  noumenon,  for 
I  know  nothing  of  what  it  is  by  itself  and  have  no 
conception  of  it,  except  as  the  object  of  sensuous 
intuition  in  general,  which  is  therefore  the  same  for 
all  phenomena."  (Page  206.)  "The  concept  of  a  nou- 
menon is  therefore  merely  limitative,  and  intended  to 
keep  the  claims  of  sensibility  within  proper  bounds, 
therefore  of  negative  use  only.  But  it  is  not  a  mere 
arbitrary  fiction,  but  closely  connected  with  the  limit- 
ation of  sensibility,  though  incapable  of  adding  any- 
thing positive  to  the  sphere  of  the  senses."  (Page  208.) 
Thus  it  seems  that  noumena  are  only  limitative  no- 
tions and  not  things  in  themselves.  They  are  mainly 
products  and  have  a  negative  mental  function,  but 

129 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

are  in  no  sense  realities.  Apart  from  the  forms  of 
articulate  experience  all  that  we  can  say  is,  there  is 
something  in  general  which  is  the  reality  to  which 
experience  relates  itself. 

And  here  another  ambiguity  emerges.  When  it  is 
declared  that  we  cannot  think  appearance  without 
reality  we  might  question  whether  an  appearance  in 
which  the  reality  does  not  truly  appear  can  be  called 
an  appearance.  If  it  be  said  that  the  notion  of  appear- 
ance implies  reality  the  answer  is,  it  no  more  implies 
reality  than  it  implies  a  reality  that  really  appears. 
Phrases  of  this  kind  really  spring  from  the  fact  that 
the  term  "appearance"  is  limited  to  the  visual  sense, 
and  for  vision  there  can  be  nothing  called  an  appear- 
ance unless  there  be  something  that  truly  appears. 
Beyond  that  the  notion  of  an  appearance  would  be 
some  phenomenon  objectively  founded,  but  the  cause 
of  which  is  in  no  respect  a  part  of  the  appearance. 
Thus,  for  instance,  we  might  speak  of  a  luminosity 
as  an  appearance  of  the  ether,  but  that  would  only 
mean  that  the  vibrations  in  the  ether  produce  the 
appearance  of  light;  in  which  case,  however,  it  would 
not  occur  to  any  one  to  regard  light  as  a  phenomenon 
of  the  ether  or  as  a  failure  to  present  to  us  its  true 
object.  As  we  have  before  seen,  the  noumena  are  not 
things  that  are  to  be  judged  by  the  visual  sense,  but 
are  to  be  interpreted  by  the  understanding.  And  in 
general,  if  we  are  to  make  this  doctrine  all-inclusive, 
we  shall  have  to  take  phenomena  as  effects  and  con- 
sider their  character  as  effects  and  determine  the 
realities  in  the  case,  not  by  trying  to  tell  how  they 
would  look,  but  by  considering  what  the  effects  indi- 

130 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

'  cate  as  to  the  causes  from  which  they  arise.  Along 
this  line  it  becomes  possible  to  adjust  the  doctrine 
of  phenomenal  knowledge,  so  far  as  it  is  correct,  to 
thought  itself,  without  doing  violence  to  our  ordin- 
ary sense  of  reality  and  to  good  sense  in  general. 
The  doctrine  of  phenomena  and  noumena,  because 
of  its  connection  with  the  Kantian  theory  of  know- 
ledge, is  sure  to  mislead.  Phenomenon  is  supposed 
to  be  something  which  ought  to  refer  to  noumenon, 
but  instead  of  so  doing  it  hides  and  distorts  it.  The 
noumenon,  on  the  other  hand,  is  something  trying  to 
peer  through  the  masking  phenomenon,  but  failing  in 
the  attempt. 

Now  it  is  plain  that  in  this  sense  the  apparent  or 
phenomenal  can  lead  to  no  insight  whatever.  The 
appearance  as  affection  and  illusion  can  never  fur- 
nish the  premises  for  valid  conclusions  respecting 
reality.  The  phenomenal,  as  masking  or  distorting 
the  real,  can  never  give  any  insight  into  the  real. 
There  must,  then,  be  a  truth  in  the  appearance  or 
the  phenomenon  itself,  if  it  is  to  help  us  to  any  know- 
ledge of  the  real. 

The  true  order  of  procedure  is  this.  We  begin  with 
experience,  which  is  real  and  valid  in  its  way.  This 
is  the  world  of  things  and  persons  about  us,  and  the 
general  order  of  life.  Now  in  serious  thought  there 
can  never  be  any  question  as  to  the  validity  and  truth 
of  this  experience.  It  must  be  the  contents  of  life. 
It  is  the  platform  on  which  we  meet  in  mutual  under- 
standing. It  is  the  field  where  life  and  human  history 
go  on,  and  we  need  no  philosophizing  to  introduce  us 
to  this  field.  Life  itself  is  a  sufficient  introduction. 

131 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

Where,  then,  does  philosophy  come  in?  In  this  way. 
When  we  come  to  study  this  experience,  external  and 
internal,  we  find  ourselves  compelled  by  the  experi- 
ence itself  to  go  behind  it  for  its  interpretation. 
Accordingly  we  find  that  the  sense  data,  with  which 
we  all  begin,  and  which  at  first  seem  to  all  of  us  to 
be  final,  are  not  properly  final.  We  discover,  however, 
not  that  they  are  illusions  or  unreal,  but  that  they 
need  interpretation.  Thus  from  the  phenomena  of 
the  visible  heavens  we  infer  the  astronomic  heavens. 
From  the  order  of  our  experience  of  physical  change 
we  infer  the  various  doctrines  of  theoretical  science. 
But  in  none  of  these  cases  do  we  deny  the  experience 
or  reject  it  as  false.  We  rather  view  it  as  not  final, 
and  we  go  beyond  it  for  its  interpretation.  Now 
experience  of  this  sort  is  phenomenal;  that  is,  it  exists 
only  in  and  for  intelligence.  In  abstraction  from  the 
space  of  this  experience  it  would  have  no  assign- 
able meaning;  but  this  experience,  though  thus  phe- 
nomenal, is  not  to  be  looked  upon  after  the  analogy 
of  optical  illusions  as  masking  and  distorting  a  real 
which  the  mind  is  seeking  to  perceive.  It  must  rather 
be  looked  upon  as  a  veritable  order  real  in  and  for 
experience,  but  not  an  ontological  reality.  Neither 
is  it  to  be  viewed  as  any  mask  of  the  real,  but  rather 
as  a  revelation  of  the  same,  a  revelation,  however, 
as  manifesting  a  hidden  causality,  a  revelation  to  the 
understanding  and  not  merely  to  the  visual  sense. 
Looking  at  the  matter  in  this  way  we  have  to  make 
two  kinds  of  reality,  which  we  may  call  phenomenal 
reality  and  ontological  or  causal  reality.  They  are 
both  real,  but  they  are  not  real  in  the  same  sense. 

132 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

The  phenomena  are  not  causal  or  substantial,  but 
they  are  real  in  the  sense  that  they  are  no  illusions 
of  the  individual,  but  are  abiding  elements  in  our 
common-sense  experience.  They  are  not,  then,  phan- 
tasms or  errors  or  hallucinations.  They  are  given  to 
all,  at  least  to  all  of  a  normal  sensibility,  and  their 
truth  lies  in  their  being  just  what  they  are,  certain 
forms  of  experience;  and  when  we  pass  behind  them 
our  aim  is  not  to  find  a  supposed  reality  in  them, 
but  rather  to  find  their  causal  source  and  ground.  It 
is  of  the  utmost  importance  for  understanding  the 
movement  of  philosophic  thought  that  these  two 
senses  of  reality  be  kept  distinct  and  that  both  be 
distinguished  from  illusion  and  error. 

The  possibility  of  such  a  view  may  be  illustrated 
by  the  established  doctrine  respecting  the  sense 
world.  There  is  universal  agreement  among  both 
scientists  and  philosophers  that  a  large  part  of  the 
sense  world  has  only  phenomenal  existence.  When 
we  inquire  into  the  causality  and  ontological  ground 
of  that  world,  we  are  taken  behind  it  to  the  power 
world  into  which  only  thought  can  penetrate,  and  we 
are  told  that  this  is  the  truly  real;  but  at  the  same 
time  the  phenomenal  world  remains  real  in  its  way. 
It  forms  the  contents  of  our  objective  experience  and 
is  the  field  in  which  we  all  meet  in  mutual  under- 
standing. It  expresses,  then,  an  element  common  to 
all  and  is  no  private  fiction  of  the  individual.  Con- 
cerning it  the  proper  question  is  not,  Is  it  real?  but 
rather,  What  kind  of  reality  does  it  have? 

In  further  consideration  of  Kant's  strange  doctrine 
we  are  led  to  ask  how  he  came  to  it.  The  answer 

133 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

seems  to  be  that  Kant  began  with  the  nai've  conception 
of  a  reality  external  and  antithetical  to  intelligence, 
the  notion  with  which  crude  and  unreflective  com- 
mon sense  always  begins.  There  is  a  world  of  things 
altogether  independent,  not  only  of  our  thought  but 
of  all  thought,  and  common  sense  finds  it  perfectly 
easy  to  know  this  world,  for  all  we  have  to  do  is  to 
look  and  see.  But  Kant's  theory  of  the  constructive 
action  of  the  mind  in  perception  at  once  disposes  of 
this  naive  notion  of  a  passive  mirroring  of  things  un- 
deniably there,  and  it  becomes  clear  that  the  world 
that  we  know  is  primarily  and  immediately  the  world 
that  we  construct:  that  is,  the  known  world  is  our 
own  "construct,"  considered  in  its  origin.  To  be  sure, 
we  suppose  that  this  world  which  we  "construct"  in 
thought  is  the  world  independently  existing,  but  still 
the  "construct"  is  primarily  our  product;  just  as 
our  knowledge  of  another's  thought  is  primarily  our 
own  thought,  even  if  we  believe  that  that  thought 
truly  grasps  the  thought  of  another  mind.  By  this 
time  it  is  possible  to  query  whether  the  object  be  not 
simply  and  only  our  own  "construct"  projected  in 
reality.  It  is  clear  that  with  this  theory  of  knowledge 
nothing  whatever  can  be  really  known  that  is  en- 
tirely outside  of  intelligence  and  antithetical  to  it.  It 
follows  at  once  that  that  reality  which  we  naively 
assume  at  the  start  is  unknowable  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

But  in  this  we  proceed  uncritically.  In  the  order 
of  knowledge  experience  is  really  first  and  basal,  and 
things  are  only  the  assumptions  we  make  in  order  to 
explain  our  experience.  Experience  and  the  things 

134 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

inferred  from  it  are  amenable  to  our  thought,  and 
beyond  these  we  have  no  warrant  for  saying  anything. 
Spontaneous  realism  easily  mistakes  the  existence  of 
things  apart  from  our  thought  for  their  existence 
apart  from  any  and  all  thought.  And  then  their 
infinity  follows  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  if  all  things 
lie  within  the  thought  sphere,  if  things  are  the  pro- 
duct and  expression  of  some  creative  thought,  they 
might  well,  then,  be  commensurate  with  our  intelli- 
gence. In  that  case  there  would  be  as  little  reason 
for  thinking  of  an  unknowable  thing  in  itself  behind 
the  apparent  thing  we  perceive,  as  there  is  for  think- 
ing of  an  unknowable  thought  of  itself  in  our  neigh- 
bor's mind  behind  the  thought  we  comprehend.  This 
theistic  suggestion  in  this  connection  deserves  more 
consideration  than  it  has  ever  received.  If  things 
originate  in  thought  and  express  thought,  there  is  no 
difficulty  in  principle  in  their  reappearing  in  thought. 
In  that  case  the  objects  of  experience,  being  products 
of  thought,  are  commensurate  with  our  thought,  and 
it  is  altogether  conceivable  that  our  thought  should 
be  able  to  know  them  as  they  are.  The  world  itself, 
though  more  than  a  thought,  is  essentially  the  expres- 
sion of  thought  and  hence  lies  open  to  our  intelli- 
gence. And  the  skeptic,  instead  of  assuming  things 
and  proclaiming  that  they  cannot  be  known,  should 
rather  consider  whether  he  has  any  right  to  affirm 
any  other  than  those  known  things  which  our  thought 
posits.  The  skepticism  here  should  attach  not  to  our 
knowledge  of  reality  but  to  the  skeptic's  assumption 
of  an  unknowable  reality.  For  a  little  reflection  serves 
to  show  that  an  intelligible  experience  can  never 

135 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

possibly  warrant  the  affirmation  of  something  essen- 
tially unrelated  to  intelligence. 

That  this  is  so  appears  at  once  when  we  reflect 
upon  the  self-destructive  character  of  the  doctrine 
that  denies  the  applicability  of  the  categories  to 
reality.  When  no  law  of  thought  is  allowed  to  be 
valid  for  things,  the  things  themselves  become  not 
only  unaffirmable  but  also  meaningless  and  empty 
of  all  contents.  If  all  the  categories  are  subjective 
to  us,  then  the  independent  reality  is  neither  one  nor 
many,  for  unity  and  plurality  are  categories.  It  is, 
then,  neither  a  thing  itself  nor  things  in  themselves, 
for  either  phrase  supposes  number,  which  is  ruled 
out  by  hypothesis.  The  reality  also  is  neither  cause 
nor  effect,  for  these,  too,  are  categories  and  hence 
without  application  to  objective  reality.  Reality, 
again,  is  neither  substance  nor  attribute,  neither  thing 
nor  quality,  for  these  also  are  categories.  Finally,  it 
is  neither  real  nor  unreal,  for  reality  and  negation 
are  categories  and  hence  without  application.  What, 
then,  is  it?  If  these  denials  are  to  be  taken  strictly, 
it  is  nothing,  neither  subjectively  nor  objectively.  It 
is  neither  a  thing  nor  a  thought.  It  is  only  a  verbal 
phrase  to  which  neither  reality  nor  conception  corre- 
sponds. If  we  relax  the  denial  sufficiently  to  bring 
it  under  the  general  head  of  existence,  even  then  we 
have  no  positive  thought  or  thing.  We  have  only 
the  bare  category  of  being  suspended  in  vacuo  by  the 
imagination.  As  such  it  is  only  the  abstract  concept- 
ual existence  of  class  terms,  and  like  them  is  ob- 
jectively nothing.  The  unknowable  reality,  then,  van- 
ishes, leaving  only  verbal  phrases  in  its  place.  With 

136 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

this  result  the  skepticism  based  thereon  also  vanishes, 
for  there  being  nothing  to  know  we  cannot  be  ex- 
pected to  know  it. 

To  this  result  every  doctrine  of  unknowability 
must  come  which  is  based  upon  a  denial  of  the 
objective  validity  of  the  laws  of  thought.  It  must 
finally  reject  its  unknowable  as  only  a  form  of  words, 
and  must  reinstate  knowledge  by  leaving  experience 
and  its  contents  as  the  only  reality  to  be  known.  The 
theory,  too,  in  its  best  estate  introduces  an  incom- 
mensurable dualism  into  philosophy.  On  the  one 
hand,  are  things  utterly  unrelated  to  thought,  and 
on  the  other,  is  thought  utterly  unrelated  to  things. 
Neither  accounts  for  the  other,  neither  can  do  any- 
thing with  the  other.  They  stand  on  opposite  sides 
of  an  impassable  gulf  without  any  means  of  com- 
munication. This  Manicheism  of  philosophy  results 
from  uncritically  adopting  the  assumed  opposition 
of  thought  and  thing  which  rules  in  spontaneous 
thought,  and  making  it  universal.  This  produces 
only  the  most  inconsistent  of  skepticisms.  It  must 
affirm  things  and  can  find  no  reason  for  so  doing.  It 
is  equally  impossible  to  give  any  articulate  contents 
to  the  things  which  it  affirms;  and  finally,  we  can 
make  no  use  whatever  of  such  an  unknowable  in 
the  explanation  of  experience.  If  this  thing  cannot 
be  brought  into  causal  connection  with  experience 
and  its  orders  of  change,  it  is  of  no  use,  and  instead 
of  being  an  absolute  existence  it  is  an  absolute 
nothingness.  Anything,  then,  which  we  can  affirm  for 
the  explanation  of  experience  must  admit  of  being 
brought  into  rational  relations  to  experience  so  as  to 

137 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

form  a  rational  whole  with  it.  Reality,  then,  must 
either  come  within  the  reach  of  thought  or  go  out  of 
existence. 

It  is  perfectly  plain,  then,  that  if  we  are  to  take 
Kant's  subjectivity  of  the  categories  in  the  sense  of 
denying  their  validity  for  independent  reality,  we 
must  deny  that  reality  altogether.  If  we  should  take 
advantage  of  a  statement  previously  made  and  make 
subjectivity  itself  universal,  we  might  then  maintain 
the  subjectivity  of  the  categories  without  difficulty, 
because  in  that  case  we  should  deny  the  existence 
of  anything  outside  of  intelligence,  either  our  own 
intelligence  or  cosmic  intelligence.  But  Kant  did  not 
have  that  view  in  mind  when  he  affirmed  the  sub- 
jectivity of  the  categories,  and  then  it  is  plain  either 
that  Kant  has  contradicted  himself  or  else  that  he 
did  not  mean  this  subjectivity  to  be  taken  in  absolute 
literalness.  That  this  is  the  view  he  really  held  seems 
to  appear  from  his  further  doctrine  concerning  the 
soul  and  God.  Although  he  would  not  allow  these  to 
be  objects  of  demonstrative  knowledge  he  neverthe- 
less affirms  their  existence,  and  in  that  case  it  is  clear 
that  he  must  regard  them  as  standing  in  causal  rela- 
tions to  the  world  of  experience,  otherwise  they  would 
be  entirely  useless.  If  it  should  be  replied  that  Kant 
only  meant  to  deny  that  God  is  an  object  of  demon- 
strative knowledge,  the  answer  would  be  that  nowa- 
days nobody  supposes  he  is  such  an  object;  and  in 
order  even  to  be  an  object  of  belief  there  must  be 
some  positive  content  in  our  thought  of  God  and  his 
relations  to  the  world,  and  that  can  only  take  on  the 
forms  of  some  of  the  categories.  In  some  sense,  then, 

138 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

whatever  we  affirm  to  exist  must  come  under  one  or 
more  of  the  categories  in  order  to  give  it  any  place 
whatever  in  our  intellectual  system. 

It  might,  however,  be  said  that  Kant  did  not  so 
much  mean  to  deny  that  these  outlying  objects  may 
have  relations  corresponding  to  the  categories,  but 
only  that  we  cannot  apply  the  categories  to  them  in 
such  a  way  as  to  get  any  definite  conceptions,  or  any 
conceptions  which  have  any  hold  on  reality.  Here  his 
doctrine  comes  in  of  the  formal  nature  of  the  cate- 
gories and  their  emptiness  when  not  applied  to  a 
given  material.  The  sole  field  of  the  application  of 
the  categories  Kant  says  is  experience,  and  whenever 
we  transcend  experience  itself  the  categories  become 
purely  conceptual,  and  we  have  no  means  of  deciding 
whether  there  be  any  corresponding  reality  whatever. 
If  we  take  experience  in  the  largest  sense  there  is  an 
element  of  truth  in  this,  but  Kant  took  it  only  in  the 
sense  of  external  experience,  and  held  that  the  cate- 
gories apply  solely  to  the  phenomena  of  the  external 
sense,  while  the  inner  experience  is  something  which 
lies  beyond  them.  This  limitation  is  impermissible, 
and  we  have  to  extend  the  categories  not  merely  to 
the  presentations  of  externality,  but  also  to  the 
experience  of  ourselves  and  of  the  inner  life.  With 
this  extension  we  may  say  that  the  categories  have 
no  application  apart  from  the  objects  of  a  real  or 
possible  experience.  This  does  not  imply  anything 
in  themselves  to  which  the  categories  may  not  be 
applied,  but  only  that  experience  real  or  possible  is 
the  field  of  their  fruitful  application.  Now,  with  this 
understanding  the  Kantian  doctrine  takes  on  a  per- 

139 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

missible  form  as  follows:  "The  categories  in  them- 
selves are  simply  forms  of  mental  arrangement  and 
merely  prescribe  the  form  in  which  experience  is  to 
be  ordered  when  it  is  given.  In  this  respect  they  are 
like  the  rules  of  grammar,  which  prescribe  how  we 
shall  speak  if  we  speak  at  all,  but  which  in  them- 
selves have  no  concrete  contents.  Living  speech, 
then,  is  not  merely  grammar,  but  definite  meanings 
expressed  according  to  grammatical  rules,  and  when 
there  is  no  specific  meaning  the  grammar  itself  moves 
in  a  vacuum.  All  experience,  according  to  Kant,  is 
real  only  through  some  given  fact,  and  apart  from 
such  facts  is  empty.  Thus  we  might  talk  of  sensa- 
tions of  a  class  we  have  never  experienced,  as  the 
sensations  of  a  tenth  sense;  but  it  is  plain  that  such 
talk,  however  learned  it  might  be,  would  be  formal 
and  empty,  as  there  would  be  no  concrete  sensation 
to  give  significance  or  substance  to  our  words.  In 
the  case  of  real  sensation,  on  the  contrary,  there  is 
an  actual  experience  which  gives  content  to  our  re- 
flection. Until  the  actual  experience  is  given  there 
is  no  security  that  there  is  anything  whatever  corre- 
sponding to  our  formal  phrases;  but  when  experience 
is  given  we  have  no  longer  simple  logical  concepts, 
but  we  have  something  lived  and  realized.  Now  Kant 
said  that  the  categories  are  applied  only  to  such  sense 
experience,  and  otherwise  are  empty.  Here  he  made 
the  mistake  of  limiting  experience  to  the  physical 
sensations  and  did  not  extend  his  doctrine  to  the  data 
of  self -consciousness.  When  this  limitation  is  removed 
it  then  becomes  strictly  true  that  the  categories  have 
simply  the  function  of  forming  and  expressing  some 

140 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

matter  which  is  directly  experienced  or  which  can 
be  assimilated  to  experience,  and  apart  from  that 
relation  they  are  formal  and  empty.  They  must 
always  be  brought  into  contact  with  experience  in 
some  way  in  order  to  acquire  reality,  or  to  make  sure 
that  they  represent  any  possible  object  for  thought. 
Thus,  if  we  talk  of  the  categories  of  being,  unity, 
identity,  causality,  substance,  etc.,  in  abstraction 
from  any  given  experience,  they  are  utterly  vacuous, 
so  that  we  cannot  tell  whether  there  be  any  corre- 
sponding fact  or  not;  and  it  is  only  as  we  find  these 
categories  realized  in  living  self -experience  that  they 
acquire  other  than  a  formal  meaning,  or  pass  for 
anything  more  than  purely  verbal  counters.  They 
are  like  grammar  when  there  is  no  speech,  or  rules 
for  saying  something  when  there  is  nothing  to  be 
said." l 

This  doctrine  springs  directly  out  of  the  relation 
of  conceptions  to  experienced  objects.  The  concep- 
tion alone  is  empty.  Some  form  of  experience  is 
needed  to  give  it  content.  And  hence  we  may  say 
in  general  that  all  class  terms  as  well  as  categories 
are  formal  unless  some  objects  can  be  found  to  which 
they  apply  or  to  which  they  can  be  assimilated  in 
some  way.  All  conceptions  where  there  are  no  objects 
must  be  rejected  as  empty,  and  we  have  no  means 
therefore  of  deciding  whether  they  represent  any  real 
or  possible  existence.  It  further  follows  that  all  par- 
ticular thinking  must  be  done  either  in  terms  of  sense 
objects  or  in  terms  of  inner  experience.  Those  things 
which  cannot  be  in  any  way  sensuously  presented, 

1  Bowne's  Personalism,  p.  100. 
141 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

nor  in  any  way  assimilated  to  the  inner  life,  must  be 
looked  upon  as  only  verbal  and  without  any  claim 
whatever  to  existence.  In  the  case  of  sense  objects 
we  can  merely  decide  and  register  their  relations  in 
space  and  time  or  their  uniformities  of  coexistence 
and  sequence.  When  we  pass  to  the  unpicturable 
notions  of  the  understanding,  that  is,  the  categories 
in  the  Kantian  sense,  we  have  no  security  that  they 
are  really  anything  but  verbal  except  in  the  form 
which  we  give  them  in  experience:  that  is,  the  cate- 
gories have  to  be  viewed  as  functions  of  conscious 
intelligence,  and  when  they  are  not  taken  in  this 
sense  then  they  are  entirely  empty  and  really  appre- 
hend no  objects  whatever.  In  case  the  categories 
acquire  an  object  they  are  not  masks  or  forms  im- 
posed upon  something  that  exists  apart  from  them. 
They  are  simply  forms  of  mental  activity  whereby 
the  intellect  builds  up  experience.  They  are  not 
something  out  of  which  the  intellect  is  built  up.  They 
are  the  forms  for  the  conceptual  apprehension  of 
existence,  but  this  conceptual  apprehension  is  empty 
until  it  is  realized  in  living  experience.  Hence  the 
intellect  is  not  to  be  understood  through  the  cate- 
gories, but  the  categories  are  to  be  understood  through 
the  intellect,  and  ultimately  the  intellect  grasps  itself 
in  its  own  living  experience,  which  is  the  logical  prius 
of  all  conceptual  understanding. 

Things  in  themselves,  then,  lying  beyond  the  cate- 
gories, we  reject  and  equally  we  reject  the  subjectivity 
of  the  categories  unless  subjectivity  is  made  universal 
so  that  all  existence  lies  within  the  thought  sphere. 
In  that  case  we  can  maintain  the  subjectivity  of 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

the  categories  without  loss  because  there  is  nothing 
beyond  the  thought  sphere,  and  hence  nothing  to 
which  they  could  apply.  The  thought  sphere  becomes 
all-embracing,  and  the  categories  are  rules  for  form- 
ing and  expressing  experience  within  this  sphere. 
There  is,  however,  a  certain  relativity  of  the  cate- 
gories in  relation  to  experience  which  can  be  main- 
tained without  passing  to  the  Kantian  position. 
There  is  a  large  element  in  our  thinking  which  is 
relative  to  ourselves  and  which  in  this  sense  may  be 
called  subjective  rather  than  objective;  that  is,  it 
expresses  merely  a  point  of  view  and  not  anything 
which  is  universal  in  the  object  or  in  its  relations. 
The  practical  application  of  the  categories  is  largely 
formal  only,  and  relative  to  our  intellectual  conven- 
ience. The  unities  and  identities  and  substantialities 
which  appear  in  our  human  thought  and  speech  are 
mostly  our  own  products.  They  result  from  the 
application  of  the  categories  of  thought  to  the  fluent 
and  unsubstantial  manifold  of  sense,  and  have  only 
relative  validity.  Thus  the  unities  we  find  in  experi- 
ence are  mainly  formal.  This  is  the  case  with  all 
spatial  and  temporal  unities,  for  these  can  have  only 
conceptual  existence.  Reality  or  substantiality  also 
is  largely  formal  or  relative  in  its  application.  Most 
of  our  substantive  conceptions  present  no  real  thing- 
hood;  only  processes  or  phenomena  or  activities  to 
which  the  mind  has  given  a  substantive  form,  but 
which  are  never  to  be  mistaken  for  things.  Light, 
heat,  electricity,  magnetism,  and  the  great  number 
of  abstract  nouns  are  illustrations.  Identity,  too,  is 
more  often  formal  than  real.  We  find  very  few  real 

143 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

identities  in  experience,  where  certainly  most  things 
are  in  perpetual  change  and  flow.  In  all  such  cases 
the  identity  is  formally  imposed  by  the  mind  for  its 
own  convenience,  and  expresses  no  ontological  fact. 
Our  classifications  also  are  largely  relative,  not  repre- 
senting any  eternal  ideas  or  veritable  cosmic  group- 
ings, but  solely  conveniences  and  points  of  view  of 
our  own.  Their  relativity  to  our  sensibility  or  to  our 
purposes  can  lay  no  claim  to  be  looked  upon  as  any 
abiding  part  of  the  cosmic  furniture.  They  are  what 
Herbart  would  call  "accidental  views."  In  calling 
attention  to  this  fact,  thus  shutting  off  the  hasty 
dogmatism  of  the  pre-Kantian  period,  Kant  has  done 
a  great  service  of  lasting  value.  Hereafter  we  have 
to  proceed  not  dogmatically  but  critically  in  seeking 
to  eliminate  the  purely  relative  and  accidental  point 
of  view. 

A  second  order  of  possible  relativity  may  be  found 
with  regard  to  the  sense  world  in  general.  Our  human 
world,  when  we  look  at  it  carefully,  has  a  large  ele- 
ment of  relativity.  We  look  upon  its  contents  and 
rightly  view  them  as  objective,  that  is,  as  independent 
of  our  human  laws;  but  when  we  inquire  into  its 
contents  we  find  that  they  largely  consist  of  our  own 
sense  life  put  into  rational  form,  yet  in  such  a  way 
that  if  we  should  conceive  the  sense  element  dropped 
out  it  might  be  exceedingly  difficult  to  tell  what 
would  remain.  Take  away  the  sense  qualities  and 
the  resistances  and  the  distances  all  relative  to  our- 
selves, and  we  find  nothing  left  that  could  be  called 
a  world;  and  so,  however  much  we  may  regard  this 
human  world  of  ours  as  being  objectively  founded, 

144 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

we  must  nevertheless  query  whether  it  be  not  after 
all  a  certain  human  world  only  and  of  such  a  sort 
that  we  are  not  able  to  affirm  it  to  have  any  existence 
for  beings  who  might  be  differently  constituted  from 
ourselves  in  their  sensuous  nature.  The  world  of 
ether,  for  instance,  is  not  adjusted  to  our  senses,  and 
it  has  therefore  only  a  theoretical  existence  for  us. 
We  cannot  make  anything  out  of  it  for  ourselves 
beyond  a  somewhat  obscure  existence  [required  by] 
our  optical  equations;  and  on  the  other  hand,  many 
of  our  solid  things  seem  to  be  practically  transparent 
for  various  influences  which  we  seem  to  detect.  It 
is  therefore  by  no  means  a  difficult  thought  that  the 
things  which  are  solid  for  us  might  be  vacua  for  others 
and  the  things  which  are  vacua  for  us  might  be  solid 
for  others. 

And  this  leads  to  the  surmise  that  there  may  be 
widely  different  systems  of  reality  for  beings  who  are 
differently  constituted  or  for  the  same  beings  in 
different  stages  of  their  development.  Being  in  this 
world  means  nothing  more  than  having  a  certain 
form  and  type  of  experience  with  certain  familiar 
conditions.  Passing  out  of  this  world  into  another 
would  mean  simply  not  a  transition  through  space, 
but  passing  into  a  new  form  and  type  of  experience 
differently  constituted  from  the  present.  And  how 
many  of  these  systems  are  possible  or  to  what  extent 
this  change  might  go  is  altogether  beyond  us.  Of 
course  these  many  systems  would  all  be  objectively 
founded,  that  is,  they  would  be  rooted  in  the  will  and 
purpose  of  the  Creator,  and  they  would  also  be  one 
in  the  sense  that  the  creative  purpose  would  comprise 

145 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

them  all  in  one  plan;  but  they  would  not  be  one  in 
the  sense  of  being  phases  or  aspects  of  one  absolute 
reality.  They  would  be  stages  in  God's  unfolding 
plan,  but  not  aspects  of  the  static  universe.  This 
static  universe  is  a  phantom  of  abstract  thought.  The 
only  reality  is  God  and  his  progressively  unfolding 
plan  and  purpose  and  work,  and  the  world  of  finite 
spirits.  In  this  case  also  we  should  have  a  relativity 
but  not  an  illusion,  a  validity  of  knowledge  within 
the  sphere  which  finds  its  ground  and  warrant  in  the 
plan  and  purpose  of  the  Creator.  This  system  could 
not  be  affirmed  to  exist  for  all  beings.  It  would  there- 
fore be  a  human  world,  at  least  in  very  many  of  its 
aspects.  It  would  be  true  for  the  intelligence  that 
comprehends  all  existence,  but  it  would  be  non- 
existent for  finite  intelligences  which  are  adjusted  to 
another  order  of  experience. 

By  this  time  probably  we  begin  to  fear  that  there 
is  not  much  basis  left  for  objective  knowledge,  or 
possibly  we  may  think  when  so  much  is  made  phe- 
nomenal and  relative  that  we  are  not  grasping  reality 
at  all,  and  the  query  arises  whether  after  all  we  are 
not  living  in  the  midst  of  illusion,  and  whether  if  we 
knew  things  as  they  really  are  we  should  not  find  them 
altogether  different  from  what  we  think  them  to  be. 
This  thought  springs  out  of  the  fancy  that  there  is 
an  absolute  system  of  static  reality  to  which  our 
thoughts  ought  to  correspond  in  order  to  be  true. 
This  is  one  of  the  dogmatic  fictions.  For  us  the  real 
can  never  be  anything  but  the  contents  of  experi- 
ence and  whatever  we  may  infer  from  them.  Back 
of  experience  we  find  no  truly  real  of  the  noumenal 

146 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

type,  but  we  infer  or  affirm  a  cause  which  is  founding 
and  maintaining  the  order  of  experience.  To  ask 
whether  this  order  be  true  is  really  meaningless  unless 
we  suppose  some  absolute  static  system  back  of 
experience,  and  this  notion  is  baseless.  When  this  is 
seen  the  only  permissible  question  becomes  this,  Does 
our  experience  exhaust  the  possibilities  of  experi- 
ence and  consciousness?  From  a  theistic  standpoint 
the  universe  itself  is  no  static  existence,  but  only  the 
divine  thought  finding  realization  through  the  divine* 
will,  and  that  thought  for  us  must  find  expression  in 
the  order  of  experience.  But  it  is  quite  credible  that 
our  present  experience  does  not  exhaust  the  contents 
of  that  thought  and  so  does  not  exhaust  the  possi- 
bilities of  experience.  If  further  possibility  should 
unfold  we  should  not  have  a  truer  experience,  but  a 
more  extensive  one.  Our  present  experience  is  of  a 
certain  type  with  certain  contents  and  limitations, 
and  it  is  entirely  possible  that  there  should  be  other 
beings  with  different  types  and  contents  of  experi- 
ence. It  is  equally  possible  that  we  ourselves  shall 
pass  into  new  orders  of  experience,  in  which  case  we 
should  have  no  right  to  say  that  the  present  order  is 
false,  but  only  that  it  is  not  all  and  final.  In  like 
manner  the  new  order  would  not  be  rightly  described 
as  more  true  than  the  present  order,  but  only  as  per- 
haps higher  and  richer  in  content,  giving  a  fuller  and 
more  abundant  We.  In  this  sense  there  may  be  any 
number  of  universes  of  experience,  each  of  which  is 
relative  to  its  own  experience  and  all  of  which  are 
embraced  in  the  thought  or  plan  of  the  infinite  mind 
or  will  on  which  they  all  depend. 

147 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

By  this  time  we  have  widely  departed  from  the 
original  Kantian  position,  yet  in  such  a  way  as  to 
retain  the  truth  in  Kant's  view  while  escaping  its 
essential  error.  The  conception  of  a  world  of  reality 
altogether  apart  from  mind  and  antithetical  to  it, 
which  is  the  source  of  the  various  agnosticisms,  we 
reject  outright.  Such  a  world  manifestly  can  never 
be  known  and  with  equal  certainty  it  can  never  be 
affirmed.  Kant  [assumed]  such  a  reality  by  taking  for 
granted  the  crude  notions  of  common  sense  according 
to  which  things  just  exist  apart  from  mind,  and  mind 
has  simply  the  function  of  knowing  them  after  they 
are  there.  Something  might  be  said  for  this  view  from 
the  standpoint  of  our  human  experience  in  which 
we  seem  to  be  purely  perceptive  of  a  world  already 
existing,  but  at  the  utmost  all  that  this  makes  out  is 
that  the  world  of  reality  is  independent  of  our  think- 
ing and  willing,  but  not  that  it  is  independent  of 
all  thinking  and  willing.  This  independence  of  our 
thought  superficial  common  sense  takes  for  inde- 
pendence of  all  thought,  which  is  a  very  different 
matter.  When  next  we  join  to  this  affirmation  the 
insight  that  our  minds  can  know  only  those  things 
which  are  related  to  it,  agnosticism  follows  as  a 
matter  of  course;  but  instead  of  adopting  this  un- 
critical view,  and  then  complaining  that  we  cannot 
know  the  reality  of  things,  attention  should  have 
been  rather  directed  to  the  inquiry  whether  we  have 
any  warrant  for  affirming  such  things.  And  as  soon 
as  this  question  is  raised,  the  baselessness  of  the 
affirmation  becomes  apparent.  For  our  immediate 
facts  are  ourselves  and  the  world  of  experience.  These 

148 


PHENOMENA  AND  NOUMENA 

are  the  only  realities  of  which  we  have  any  immediate 
knowledge,  and  any  further  realities  we  may  affiftn 
must  be  affirmed  for  the  sake  of  making  this  world  of 
persons  and  personal  experience  intelligible,  and  it  is 
clear  that  the  affirmation  of  no  kind  of  unknowable 
or  impersonal  existence  will  give  us  the  least  light 
upon  this  subject.  Hence  we  set  aside  that  world  of 
impersonal  existence  and  confine  ourselves  to  the  real 
world  of  experience,  and  attempt  to  discover  its  uni- 
formities of  coexistence  and  sequence  and  to  spell 
out  its  meanings  as  best  we  may.  But  this  world  is 
not  an  illusion.  It  is  the  world  where  we  all  meet  in 
mutual  understanding,  the  world  where  life  goes  on. 
It  is  then  perfectly  real  in  its  way,  but  when  we  come 
to  study  it  we  find  that  some  phases  of  this  world  of 
experience  compel  us  to  transcend  them  in  order  to 
find  their  proper  causes.  In  this  case  we  are  not  look- 
ing for  noumena  or  things  behind  phenomena  which 
the  mind  ought  to  know  but  cannot.  We  are  rather 
looking  for  the  cause  or  causes  of  these  facts  of  experi- 
ence, and  these  causes  are  to  be  known  through  their 
effects.  In  the  nature  of  the  case  they  can  never  be 
brought  before  our  eyes  and  presented  in  terms  of 
vision.  And  this  is  the  case  with  all  causes.  They  are 
to  be  known  through  their  effects.  Here,  too,  we  have 
no  unknowable  noumenal  world  forever  eluding  us; 
we  simply  have  causes  at  work,  and  we  seek  through 
studying  their  effects  to  form  some  idea  of  the  nature 
of  those  causes.  As  we  have  before  said,  a  good  part 
of  the  Kantian  agnosticism  rests  upon  oversight  of 
the  fact  that  in  any  case  causes  can  be  known  only 
by  their  effects,  and  that  to  this  problem  the  anti- 

149 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

thesis  of  phenomena  and  noumena  or  appearance  and 
reality  is  inapplicable.  The  mind  is  known  through 
its  activities,  but  these  activities  are  not  appear- 
ances or  manifestations  in  any  visual  sense.  They 
are  known  in  their  proper  way  in  consciousness  and 
the  nature  of  the  mind  is  revealed  in  them.  Similarly 
the  hidden  power  behind  the  cosmic  order  does  not 
appear  in  any  visual  sense,  but  manifests  itself  in  the 
ongoings  of  things  and  is  to  be  known  in  the  same 
way. 

In  the  beginning  of  this  work  we  pointed  out  that 
knowledge  is  conditioned,  first,  by  the  subject,  and 
secondly,  by  the  object.  In  common  thought  the 
object  itself  is  the  only  fact  considered.  It  is  taken 
as  a  matter  of  course  that  if  things  are  there  we  know 
them  as  they  are,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  mystery 
about  it.  In  opposition  to  this,  Kant  set  forth  the 
complex  mental  activity  involved  in  our  cognitive 
operations,  and  so  was  led  to  say  that  the  mind  makes 
nature,  that  the  understanding  is  the  source  of  natu- 
ral laws  and  imposes  its  forms  upon  nature,  and  other 
things  to  the  same  effect.  We  have  seen  that  this  is  an 
important  half  of  the  truth  in  this  sense,  that  if  the 
mind  were  not  a  microcosm  over  against  macrocosm 
there  would  be  no  possibility  of  knowledge;  but  now 
it  is  necessary  to  emphasize  the  fact  that  the  mind  is 
conditioned  by  the  nature  of  the  object  as  well  as 
by  its  own  nature.  We  cannot  impose  mental  forms 
upon  the  world  of  experience  unless  that  world  itself 
be  adapted  to  those  forms.  Thus,  in  the  matter  of 
space  we  cannot  see  things  in  any  kind  of  spatial 
arrangement  or  vary  the  arrangement  of  things  at 

150 


TIME 

our  pleasure.  However  much  the  space  form  may  be 
a  mental  law  it  is  also  a  law  of  the  objects  to  which 
we  have  conformed.  Similarly  with  the  time  order 
and  the  causal  order  and  the  orders  of  law  in  general. 
Although  these  orders  can  be  known  only  by  a  rational 
mind,  which  is  led  by  its  own  nature  to  give  rational 
form  to  things,  it  is  equally  plain  that  the  mind  can 
give  such  form  only  to  things  which  are  already 
rationally  adjusted.  If  we  suppose  that  the  world  of 
things  is  really  a  thought  world,  —  that  is,  it  is  rooted 
in  thought  and  expresses  thought,  —  then  this  har- 
mony of  thought  and  thing  can  be  understood;  and 
on  any  other  supposition  we  are  left  to  oscillate  help- 
lessly between  an  untenable  idealism  on  the  one  hand 
and  an  equally  untenable  realism  on  the  other. 

Time 

As  a  large  part  of  Kant's  phenomenalism  rests  upon 
his  doctrine  of  space,  we  have  considered  the  mat- 
ter at  length  without  having  referred  to  his  teaching 
concerning  time.  There  is,  however,  no  less  in  this, 
and  it  is  now  possible  to  deal  with  the  latter  subject 
more  intelligibly  than  would  have  been  possible 
without  the  previous  discussion. 

Kant's  argument  for  the  subjectivity  of  time  is 
practically  the  same  as  that  for  the  subjectivity  of 
space.  We  have  the  same  confusion  between  time  as 
a  perception  and  time  as  a  form  at  the  beginning  of 
experience.  Also  the  assumption  that  the  knowledge 
of  time  as  one  and  infinite  precedes  our  knowledge  of 
finite  times.  The  objections  to  the  similar  claim  in 
the  case  of  space  may  be  understood  [to  apply]  here. 

151 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

In  one  point,  however,  there  is  a  novelty  which  de- 
serves notice.  Space  in  Kant's  psychology  is  a  form 
of  the  external  sense  and  is  supposed  to  represent  our 
way  of  looking  at  things  which  are  not  spatial.  Now, 
so  long  as  we  have  a  real  knowledge  of  the  inner  life, 
this  view  is  not  entirely  unintelligible,  and  illustra- 
tions could  be  found  in  the  way  of  making  it  clear. 
Thus  in  dreams  we  have  spatial  experience,  while 
of  course  there  is  no  thought  of  any  spatial  reality. 
Misled  by  this  notion  of  the  external  sense  and  appar- 
ently for  the  sake  of  symmetry,  Kant  affirms  time  to 
be  the  form  of  the  internal  sense,  and  this  time  is 
supposed  to  be  a  kind  of  veil  over  reality  instead  of 
giving  us  its  truth.  But  it  is  difficult  to  make  out 
just  what  the  internal  sense  would  be  other  than  the 
fact  that  we  have  consciousness  of  our  subjective 
states  in  their  coexistences  and  sequences;  but  this 
fact  in  itself  does  not  seem  to  call  for  any  special 
sense  beyond  itself.  However,  Kant  seems  to  think 
that  there  is  a  veritable  mental  activity  which  this 
internal  sense  masks,  just  as  the  external  sense  masks 
the  objective  fact  in  external  perception.  The  most 
careful  inspection,  however,  of  our  consciousness  does 
not  reveal  any  warrant  for  an  affirmation  of  this  kind. 
In  dealing  with  the  outer  world  it  is  possible  to  think 
of  phenomena  which  mask  reality,  but  in  dealing 
with  the  inner  world  we  cannot  think  in  this  way. 
Behind  the  feelings  we  feel  and  behind  the  successions 
in  consciousness  which  we  experience  there  certainly 
are  no  feelings  that  we  do  not  feel  and  no  timeless 
relations  that  we  do  not  experience.  We  therefore 
have  to  take  the  life  of  consciousness  as  it  presents 

152 


TIME 

itself  and  as  being  perfectly  real  in  its  experienced 
form,  and  then  inquire  what  this  life  leads  us  to  affirm 
respecting  its  essential  nature. 

The  subjectivity  of  time  is  really  a  more  difficult 
doctrine  than  that  of  space.  In  the  latter  case  we 
seem  to  have  experience  of  non-spatial  facts,  —  for 
instance,  consciousness  itself,  —  but  we  have  no  ex- 
perience whatever  of  any  timeless  order.  The  doc- 
trine must,  therefore,  be  established  by  reflection 
upon  the  nature  of  time  itself  in  connection  with  the 
totality  of  our  experience.  In  this  matter  Kant  takes 
it  all  too  easily.  He  refers  to  an  objection  to  which 
he  gives  no  adequate  answer.  He  says:  "Against  this 
theory  which  claims  empirical,  but  denies  absolute 
and  transcendental  reality  to  time,  even  intelligent 
men  have  protested  so  unanimously  that  I  suppose 
that  every  reader  who  is  unaccustomed  to  these  con- 
siderations may  naturally  be  of  the  same  opinion. 
What  they  object  to  is  this:  Changes,  they  say,  are 
real  (this  is  proved  by  the  change  of  our  own  repre- 
sentations, even  if  all  external  phenomena  and  their 
changes  be  denied).  Changes,  however,  are  possible 
in  time  only,  and  therefore  time  must  be  something 
real.  The  answer  is  easy  enough.  I  grant  the  whole 
argument.  Time  certainly  is  something  real,  namely, 
the  real  form  of  our  internal  intuition.  Time,  there- 
fore, has  subjective  reality  with  regard  to  internal 
experience;  that  is,  I  really  have  the  representation 
of  time  and  of  my  determinations  in  it.  Time  there- 
fore is  to  be  considered  as  real,  not  so  far  as  it  is  an 
object,  but  so  far  as  it  is  the  representation  of  myself 
as  an  object.  If  either  I  myself  or  any  other  being 

153 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

could  see  me  without  this  condition  of  sensibility, 
then  these  selfsame  determinations  which  we  now 
represent  to  ourselves  as  changes  would  give  us  a 
kind  of  knowledge  in  which  the  representation  of 
time,  and  therefore  of  change  also,  would  have  no 
place.  There  remains,  therefore,  the  empirical  reality  of 
time  only,  as  the  condition  of  all  our  experience,  while 
absolute  reality  cannot,  according  to  what  has  just 
been  shown,  be  conceded  to  it.  Time  is  nothing  but  the 
form  of  our  internal  intuition.  Take  away  the  pecu- 
liar condition  of  our  sensibility,  and  the  idea  of  time 
vanishes,  because  it  is  not  inherent  in  the  objects,  but 
in  the  subject  only  that  perceives  them. "  (Page  29.) 
Now  with  regard  to  this  it  can  be  shown,  though 
Kant  does  not  show  it,  that  time  considered  as  a 
separate  existence  by  itself  is  full  of  contradictions. 
The  existing  time  back  of  all  things  and  change, 
which  would  flow  on  uniformly  if  all  things  were  away, 
is  a  fiction  which  could  not  be  allowed  without  the 
complete  overthrow  of  reason  itself.  But  while  time 
might  not  exist  as  an  objective  fact,  it  might  yet  exist 
as  a  law  in  being  itself  such  that  the  activities  of  being 
are  necessarily  successive;  and  in  that  case  time,  while 
not  real  as  thing,  remains  about  as  real  as  ever  as  a 
controlling  law.  To  this  suggestion,  which  is  em- 
bodied in  the  objection  based  on  the  fact  of  change, 
Kant  gives  no  answer  except  to  affirm  the  subjectiv- 
ity of  time,  whereas  what  we  really  wish  to  know  is 
whether  this  subjectivity  can  be  maintained  or  not. 
For  if  change  be  real  there  is  no  possibility,  at  least 
on  the  impersonal  plane,  of  connecting  the  world  of 
change  with  any  changeless  existence  so  as  to  make 

154 


TIME 

change  the  effect  of  the  changeless.  If  it  be  suggested, 
as  has  been  done,  that  the  reality  is  neither  change- 
able nor  unchangeable,  but  simply  that  which  we 
view  under  the  form  of  change,  the  answer  must  be 
that  this  withdraws  the  problem  from  all  considera- 
tion whatever.  It  would  merely  introduce  an  x  into 
the  problem  which  could  be  brought  into  no  articu- 
late relations  with  it,  and  we  should  have  nothing  but 
the  speculator's  word  of  honor  that  it  is  equal  to  the 
demands  made  upon  it. 

Let  us  consider,  then,  the  relation  of  time  to  change. 
We  may  say  that  change  does  not  take  place  in  time, 
but  that  time  is  the  form  of  change,  and  that  the  tem- 
poral relations  of  things  depend  upon  their  relations 
to  one  another  in  the  great  changing  movement.  Thus 
it  would  seem  that  time  itself  is  brought  back  again, 
in  a  different  form,  indeed,  from  what  it  has  in  spon- 
taneous thought,  but  for  all  practical  purposes  in  much 
the  same  form  that  it  has  always  had.  But  here  some 
further  difficulties  emerge,  much  more  profound  than 
any  that  Kant  refers  to.  It  is  first  plain  from  the 
nature  of  consciousness  that  there  must  be  a  certain 
non-temporal  element  in  thought  itself,  otherwise 
consciousness  becomes  impossible;  for  if  we  introduce 
proper  succession  into  thought  so  that  its  phases  are 
really  mutually  external,  the  earlier  coming  before 
the  later,  and  the  later  arriving  only  after  the  earlier 
has  gone,  it  is  clear  that  consciousness  would  disap- 
pear altogether;  so  then  we  have  in  the  consciousness 
of  change  itself  an  element  that  is  unchangeable, 
and  this  element  cannot  possibly  be  denied  without 
mental  disaster. 

155 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

But  here  another  fact  appears,  a  certain  element 
of  relativity  in  both  space  and  time,  which  puts  a 
very  different  aspect  on  our  spatial  and  temporal 
experience  and  profoundly  modifies  the  entire  ques- 
tion. Thus,  in  the  case  of  space  the  pure  geometrical 
intuition  as  applied  to  the  world  of  experience  is 
absolute.  Distance  as  measured  in  terms  of  its  units 
is  fixed.  Direction  is  equally  fixed.  Here,  then,  is 
something  absolute  in  the  spatial  experience,  but 
when  we  come  to  relate  this  experience  to  actuality 
we  find  a  series  of  puzzles  emerging.  Because  of 
the  infinite  divisibility  of  space  no  unitary  thing  can 
exist  in  it.  And  hence  nothing  can  be  located  in  it 
except  in  relation  to  the  other  objects  of  experience. 
Our  space  relations,  then,  from  this  point  on  acquire 
a  dynamic  character.  The  "here"  of  the  living  per- 
son is  determined  by  his  immediate  activity.  Instead 
of  saying,  He  acts  where  he  is,  we  must  literally 
reverse  the  proposition  and  say,  He  is  where  he  im- 
mediately acts.  No  other  definition  of  presence  or 
location  can  be  definitely  given.  In  that  case  our 
presence  or  our  "here"  becomes  relative  to  the  range 
of  our  immediate  action.  If  we  could  act  as  immedi- 
ately and  as  effectively  on  things  beyond  the  sea  as  we 
do  upon  things  at  arm's  length,  we  should  be  as  pre- 
sent beyond  the  sea  as  we  are  now  in  our  immediate 
neighborhood;  or  if  our  organic  activities  embraced 
[the  earth,  as  they  do]  what  we  call  our  body,  we 
should  be  present  to  the  earth  in  the  same  sense  as  we 
are  now  present  to  the  organism.  Thus  we  see  that 
concrete  presence  is  nothing  that  can  be  geometric- 
ally determined  in  an  absolute  space,  but  is  rather  a 

156 


TIME 

function  of  our  dynamic  relations.  It  is  the  dynamic 
relation  that  determines  the  space  relations.  And 
we  also  see  that  presence  in  space  is  relative  to  our 
dynamic  range.  Immediate  action  is  presence,  imme- 
diate action  on  all  things  is  omnipresence.  The  ideal- 
ity of  space,  therefore,  does  not  permit  us  to  [abolish] 
space  as  a  form  of  experience,  but  it  does  enable  us  to 
dismiss  the  great  phantom  of  an  all-embracing  void. 
Thus  space  becomes  both  ideal  and  actual.  It  is  ideal 
as  not  representing  an  independent  thinghood,  but  it 
is  also  actual  as  representing  an  order  of  limitation. 
In  this  sense  only  the  Infinite  and  Absolute  Being 
upon  whom  all  things  continually  depend  can  tran- 
scend space.  The  world  of  experience,  then,  is  spatial 
in  having  the  space  form.  It  is  also  spatial  in  the 
fact  that  the  space  limitation  cannot  be  transcended 
by  us.  But  it  is  not  spatial  in  the  sense  of  being  an 
all-embracing  void  in  which  all  things  are  stowed  and 
stored.  Thus  it  appears  that  a  large  part  of  our  spa- 
tial experience  is  relative  to  ourselves  and  to  our  own 
dynamic  range. 

Much  the  same  is  to  be  said  of  the  time  judgment. 
There  is  a  great  deal  here  also  that  is  relative  to  our 
human  limitations.  And  for  understanding  the  ideal- 
ity of  time  it  is  necessary  to  bear  this  in  mind.  Time 
can  be  interpreted  only  from  the  side  of  experience, 
and  more  especially  from  the  standpoint  of  self- 
consciousness.  Experience  cannot  be  in  the  present 
as  a  separate  point  of  time,  but  rather  the  present 
is  in  experience.  We  cannot  define  the  present  as  a 
point  in  independent  time.  It  is  only  a  special  rela- 
tion in  consciousness.  The  person  who  can  grasp 

157 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

only  a  few  things  has  a  small  present;  one  who  can 
grasp  many  things  has  a  large  present;  and  one  who 
can  grasp  all  things  has  an  all-embracing  present. 

This  bringing  of  the  present  with  the  resulting 
time  judgment  into  relation  to  activity  greatly  modi- 
fies the  subject.  We  call  those  things  present  which 
we  possess  in  the  certain  immediacy  of  consciousness, 
and  if  we  possessed  all  our  experiences  in  a  similar 
immediacy  the  whole  experience  would  be  present  in 
the  same  sense.  There  would  still  be  a  certain  order 
of  arrangement  among  the  factors  of  experience 
which  could  not  arbitrarily  be  modified,  but  all  the 
members  of  the  series  would  be  equally  present  to 
consciousness.  If,  now,  there  were  a  being  who  could 
retain  all  the  facts  of  his  experience  in  the  same  imme- 
diacy, he  would  have  no  past.  And  further,  if  such  a 
being  were  also  in  full  possession  of  himself  so  as  to 
be  under  no  law  of  development  and  possessing  no  un- 
realized potentialities,  he  would  also  have  no  future, 
at  least  so  far  as  his  own  existence  might  be  concerned. 
His  present  would  be  all-embracing  and  his  now  would 
be  eternal.  These  considerations  modify  our  judg- 
ment of  the  subjectivity  of  time  very  profoundly. 
Taking  up  once  more  the  question,  Are  we  in  time? 
we  see  that  it  has  several  meanings  and  the  answers 
must  vary  to  correspond.  If  it  means,  Are  things 
and  events  in  a  real  time  which  flows  on  independ- 
ently of  them?  the  answer  must  be,  No.  If  it  means, 
Does  our  experience  have  the  temporal  form?  the 
answer  must  be,  Yes.  If  we  further  inquire  concern- 
ing the  possibility  of  transcending  temporal  limita- 
tions, it  is  clear  that  this  can  be  affirmed  only  of  the 

158 


TIME 

Absolute  Being,  for  only  in  Him  do  we  find  that 
complete  self-possession  which  the  transcendence  of 
time  would  mean.  Non-temporality,  then,  in  the 
concrete  sense  cannot  be  reached  by  passing  behind 
the  world  of  phenomena  into  the  world  of  noumena, 
but  rather  and  only  by  rising  above  the  sphere  of  the 
finite  into  the  absolute  self-possession  of  the  infinite. 
These  considerations  introduce  us  to  an  order  of  com- 
plexity which  Kant  never  suspected  and  which  is  in 
no  way  disposed  of  by  his  easy  doctrine  of  the  phe- 
nomenality  of  time.  And  in  any  case  time  is  not  dis- 
posed of  by  making  it  a  phenomenon.  For  the  phe- 
nomenon as  such  might  be  eternal.  The  attempt  to 
find  what  things  are  in  themselves  we  have  definitely 
set  aside,  because  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  all  we  can 
ever  come  to  know  is  what  things  are  for  intelligence, 
and  any  knowing  we  may  ever  have  will  necessarily 
have  our  mental  nature  as  one  of  its  coefficients. 
There  is,  therefore,  not  the  slightest  interest  in  in- 
quiring what  things  are  in  themselves  in  distinction 
from  asking  what  they  are  for  intelligence.  When  we 
can  answer  the  latter  question  we  have  all  the  know- 
ledge that  is  valuable,  and  when  the  matter  is  thought 
out  it  appears  that  we  know  all  there  is  to  know. 
The  real  fact  of  the  world  of  experience  is  ourselves 
as  its  subject  and  the  infinite  spirit  as  its  ground  and 
creator.  That  static  universe  of  unclear  speculative 
thought,  or  that  world  of  things  in  themselves  which 
thought  can  never  reach,  is  unknowable  for  the  suffi- 
cient reason  that  it  does  not  exist. 

The  ^Esthetic  and  Analytic  contain  the  most  sig- 
nificant part  of  Kant's  doctrine.  We  have  found  in  it 

159 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

a  great  truth;  namely,  the  activity  of  the  mind  in 
knowing,  which  remains  as  Kant's  permanent  and 
most  valuable  contribution  to  speculative  thought. 
The  rest  of  the  work  is  confused  in  its  meaning,  un- 
satisfactory in  its  reasoning,  and  very  far  from  con- 
sistent in  itself.  We  now  pass  to  the  third  section  of 
Transcendental  Dialectic. 


VI 

THE   TRANSCENDENTAL   DIALECTIC 

ACCORDING  to  Kant  the  great  function  of  the  under- 
standing is  to  raise  our  sense  experience  into  articu- 
late thought.  It  does  this  by  applying  the  categories 
to  the  raw  material  of  sense.  Beyond  this  field  the 
categories  have  no  application.  However,  the  under- 
standing, being  dogmatic  in  its  tendency  and  unaware 
of  its  own  limitations  until  duly  chastened  by  criti- 
cism, seeks  to  transcend  the  field  of  experience,  and 
thus  produces  a  variety  of  illusions,  thus  giving  rise  to 
what  Kant  calls  the  dialectic  of  the  pure  reason.  This 
field  of  illusion  he  now  proceeds  to  expound. 

Kant  attributes  the  dialectical  process  to  what  he 
calls  the  reason  in  distinction  from  sense  and  under- 
standing. And  as  the  understanding  has  its  cate- 
gories, the  reason  has  its  ideas;  and  as  the  categories 
were  deduced  from  the  table  of  judgments  in  formal 
logic,  the  ideas  are  to  be  deduced  from  the  different 
classes  of  syllogisms.  This  deduction  is  in  the  highest 
degree  artificial.  We  have  three  classes  of  syllogisms; 
categorical,  hypothetical,  and  disjunctive.  And  Kant 
says:  "As  many  kinds  of  relation  as  there  are,  which 
the  understanding  represents  to  itself  by  means  of  the 
categories,  so  many  pure  concepts  of  the  reason  we 
shall  find,  that  is,  first,  the  unconditioned  of  the  cate- 
gorical synthesis  in  a  subject;  secondly,  the  uncondi- 
tioned of  the  hypothetical  synthesis  of  the  members 

161 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

of  a  series;  thirdly,  the  unconditioned  of  the  dis- 
junctive synthesis  of  the  parts  of  a  system.  There 
are  exactly  as  many  kinds  of  syllogisms,  each  of  which 
tries  to  advance  by  means  of  pro-syllogisms  to  the 
unconditioned:  the  first  to  the  subject,  which  itself  is 
no  longer  a  predicate;  the  second  to  the  presupposi- 
tion, which  presupposes  nothing  else;  and  the  third 
to  an  aggregate  of  the  members  of  a  division,  which 
requires  nothing  else,  in  order  to  render  the  division 
of  the  concept  complete."  (Page  262.)  This  kind  of 
thing  is  satisfactory  only  for  those  for  whom  some 
sort  of  formal  systematic  presentation  is  a  condition 
of  mental  peace;  all  others  will  find  it  better  to  pass 
at  once  to  the  transcendental  ideas  themselves  and 
consider  them  without  reference  to  their  deduction. 
"All  pure  concepts  in  general  aim  at  a  synthetical 
unity  of  representations,  while  concepts  of  pure  rea- 
son (transcendental  ideas)  aim  at  unconditioned  syn- 
thetical unity  of  all  conditions.  All  transcendental 
ideas,  therefore,  can  be  arranged  in  three  classes:  the 
first  containing  the  absolute  (unconditioned)  unity  of 
the  thinking  subject;  the  second  the  absolute  unity 
of  the  series  of  conditions  of  phenomena;  the  third 
the  absolute  unity  of  the  condition  of  all  objects  of 
thought  in  general."  (Page  271.)  By  this  he  means 
the  soul,  the  world,  and  the  Supreme  Being  or  God. 
He  says,  "The  thinking  subject  is  the  object-matter 
of  psychology,  the  system  of  all  phenomena  (the 
world)  the  object-matter  of  cosmology,  and  the  being 
which  contains  the  highest  condition  of  the  possibility 
of  all  that  can  be  thought  (the Being  of  all  beings),  the 
object  matter  of  theology."  (Page  272.) 

162 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

These  transcendental  ideas  Kant  regards  as  merely 
forms  of  the  reason  and  not  as  objects  of  proper  specu- 
lative knowledge,  and  this  he  proceeds  to  show  in  his 
criticism  of  rational  psychology,  rational  cosmology, 
and  rational  theology.  He  says:  — 

"Of  these  dialectical  syllogisms  of  reason  there  are, 
therefore,  three  classes  only,  that  is  as  many  as  the 
ideas  to  which  their  conclusions  lead.  In  the  syllo- 
gism of  the  first  class,  I  conclude  from  the  transcend- 
ental concept  of  the  subject,  which  contains  nothing 
manifold,  the  absolute  unity  of  the  subject  itself,  of 
which,  however,  I  have  no  concept  in  this  regard. 
This  dialectical  syllogism  I  shall  call  the  transcend- 
ental paralogism. 

"The  second  class  of  the  so-called  sophistical 
syllogisms  aims  at  the  transcendental  concept  of  an 
absolute  totality  in  the  series  of  conditions  to  any 
given  phenomenon;  and  I  conclude  from  the  fact  that 
my  concept  of  the  unconditioned  synthetical  unity  of 
the  series  is  always  self-contradictory  on  one  side,  the 
correctness  of  the  opposite  unity,  of  which  neverthe- 
less I  have  no  concept  either.  The  state  of  reason 
in  this  class  of  dialectical  syllogisms,  I  shall  call  the 
antimony  of  pure  reason. 

"Lastly,  according  to  the  third  class  of  sophistical 
syllogisms,  I  conclude  from  the  totality  of  conditions, 
under  which  objects  in  general,  so  far  as  they  can  be 
given  to  me,  must  be  thought,  the  absolute  synthetical 
unity  of  all  conditions  of  the  possibility  of  things  in 
general;  that  is  to  say,  I  conclude  from  things  which 
I  do  not  know  according  to  their  mere  transcendental 
concept,  a  Being  of  all  beings,  which  I  know  still  less 

163 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

through  a  transcendental  concept,  and  of  the  uncon- 
ditioned necessity  of  which  I  can  form  no  concept 
whatever.  This  dialectical  syllogism  of  reason  I  shall 
call  the  ideal  of  pure  reason."  (Page  276.) 

According  to  Kant  rational  psychology  begins  with 
the  text  "I  think/'  out  of  which  it  must  evolve  all  its 
wisdom.  This  gives  rise  to  the  following  table:  — 

I  II 

The  Soul  is  Substance.  As  regards  its  quality,  simple. 

Ill  IV 

As  regards  the  different  times      It  is  in  relation  to  possible  ch- 
in which  it  exists,  numerically      jects  in  space, 
identical,  that  is  unity  (not 
plurality). 

"AH  concepts  of  pure  psychology  arise  from  these 
elements,  simply  by  way  of  combination,  and  without 
the  admixture  of  any  other  principle.  This  substance, 
taken  simply  as  the  object  of  the  internal  sense,  gives 
us  the  concept  of  immateriality;  and  as  simple  sub- 
stance, that  of  incorruptibility;  its  identity,  as  that 
of  an  intellectual  substance,  gives  us  personality;  and 
all  these  three  together,  spirituality;  its  relation  to 
objects  in  space  gives  us  the  concept  of  commercium 
(intercourse)  with  bodies;  the  pure  psychology  thus 
representing  the  thinking  substance  as  the  principle 
of  life  in  matter,  that  is,  as  soul  (anima),  and  as  the 
ground  of  animality;  which  again,  as  restricted  by 
spirituality,  gives  us  the  concept  of  immortality." 
(Page  281.) 

The  discussion  of  the  first  paralogism  of  substan- 

164 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

tiality  differs  entirely  in  the  two  editions.  But  there  is 
really  not  very  much  difference  in  the  substance  of  the 
reasoning,  and  Kant's  conclusion  is  very  far  from  be- 
ing established.  In  the  first  edition  the  argument  runs 
as  follows :  — 

"That,  the  representation  of  which  is  the  absolute 
subject  of  our  judgments,  and  cannot  be  used  there- 
fore as  the  determination  of  any  other  thing,  is  the 
substance. 

"I,  as  a  thinking  being,  am  the  absolute  subject  of 
all  my  possible  judgments,  and  this  representation  of 
myself  can  never  be  used  as  the  predicate  of  any  other 
thing. 

"Therefore  I,  as  a  thinking  being  (Soul),  am  Sub- 
stance." (Page  284.) 

This  is  a  false  argument,  according  to  Kant,  which 
he  proposes  to  overthrow.  Kant  reasons  as  follows: 
"We  showed  in  the  analytical  portion  of  transcend- 
ental logic,  that  pure  categories,  and  amongjthem 
that  of  substance^  have  in  themselves  no  objective 
meaning,  unless  they  rest  on  some  intuition,  and  are 
applied  to  the  manifold  of  such  intuitions  as  functions 
of  synthetical  unity.  Without  this  they  are  merely 
functions  of  a  judgment  without  contents."  (Page 
284.)  He  concludes  that  we  have  no  such  intuition 
with  respect  to  the  self,  and  "have  only  formed  a  de- 
duction from  the  concept  of  the  relation  which  all 
thinking  has  to  the  I,  as  the  common  subject  to  which 
it  belongs.  Nor  should  we,  whatever  we  did,  succeed 
by  any  certain  observation  in  proving  such  perman- 
ency. For  though  the  I  exists  in  all  thoughts,  not  the 
slightest  intuition  is  connected  with  that  represent- 

165 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

ation,  by  which  it  might  be  distinguished  from  other 
objects  of  intuition.  We  may  very  well  perceive, 
therefore,  that  this  representation  appears  again  and 
again  in  every  act  of  thought,  but  not  that  it  is  a  con- 
stant and  permanent  intuition,  in  which  thoughts,  as 
being  changeable,  come  and  go." 

"Hence  it  follows  that  in  the  first  syllogism  of 
transcendental  psychology  reason  imposes  upon  us  an 
apparent  knowledge  only,  by  representing  the  constant 
logical  subject  of  thOT^Tastn^  knowledge  of  the  real 
subject  in  which  that  knowledge  inheres.  Of  that  sub- 
ject, however,  we  have  not  and  cannot  have  the  slight- 
est knowledge.  .  .  .  Beside  this  logical  meaning  of 
the  I,  we  have  no  knowledge  of  the  subject  in  itself, 
which  forms  the  substratum  and  foundation  of  it  and 
of  all  our  thoughts."  (Page  285.) 

In  this  criticism  Kant  depends  on  two  principles, 
one  the  distinction  of  the  percept  and  the  concept,  and 
the  other  the  phenomenality  of  knowledge.  Because 
of  the  latter  we  can  have  no  real  knowledge  of  the  self, 
and  therefore  no  proper  percept  of  it.  All  we  can  do, 
then,  is  to  form  logical  concepts,  and  these  without 
the  corresponding  intuition  are  empty. 

Precisely  what  Kant  would  mean  by  intuition  in 
the  case  of  the  self,  it  would  be  hard  to  tell.  He 
tended  generally  to  limit  intuitions  to  the  external 
sense,  that  is,  to  spatial  phenomena,  in  which  case  we 
have  no  intuition  of  the  self,  of  course,  as  it  is  non- 
spatial  and  formless.  But  this  conception  of  intuition, 
as  we  have  before  pointed  out,  is  too  narrow,  and  if 
we  are  to  allow  the  term  "intuition  "  to  stand  at  all,  it 
must  be  taken  to  mean  experience  and  not  intuition  in 

166 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

a  spatial  form.  In  this  sense  we  have  self-experience  in 
self-consciousness.  We  know  our  feelings,  thoughts, 
etc.,  as  our  own,  and  we  know  ourselves  as  thinking 
and  feeling  in  these  several  ways.  This  is  not  a  merely 
conceptual  knowledge  which  deals  in  abstractions 
from  experience.  It  is  the  real  living  self-experience, 
than  which  there  is  nothing  deeper.  Here  Kant  is 
simply  applying  his  distinction  of  perception  and 
conception  without  noting  that  this  distinction  in  the 
nature  of  the  case  cannot  be  made  absolute,  for  there 
must  somewhere  be  perceptions  and  conceptions 
which  run  together  so  that  neither  would  be  anything 
without  the  other,  and  both  are  realized  in  immediate 
experience,  and  this  is  the  case  with  our  self-know- 
ledge. Kant's  doctrine  meets  another  difficulty  here 
which  Kant  himself  did  not  consider,  but  which  is 
none  the  less  important  for  our  thought.  We  can  dis- 
tinguish with  some  intelligibility  between  the  know- 
ing subject  and  objects  which  it  calls  phenomena; 
but  the  knowing  subject  can  never  itself  become 
phenomenon  in  the  sense  in  which  its  objects  are 
phenomena.  To  make  it  phenomenal  in  the  same 
sense  is  to  cut  loose  from  reality  and  from  knowledge 
altogether,  and  have  drifting  phenomena,  which  are 
expected  to  have  phenomena,  or  which  appear  to  phe- 
nomena or  which  perceive  through  phenomena,  and 
by  this  time  all  intelligible  thought  has  disappeared. 
Hence,  unless  the  doctrine  is  to  vanish  in  sheer  ab- 
surdity, we  must  affirm  the  reality  of  self-knowledge 
as  far  as  it  goes.  Kant  himself  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  satisfied  with  his  reasoning,  as  appears  from  the 
fact  just  mentioned  that  in  the  second  edition  he  gives 

167 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

the  argument  an  entirely  different  form.  He  intro- 
duces also  an  additional  consideration  which  is  naive 
as  showing  that  Kant  would  perhaps  have  not  been 
unwilling  to  admit  the  substantiality  of  the  soul  if  it 
had  not  been  for  its  bearing  upon  his  doctrine  of 
knowledge.  He  says:  — 

"It  would  be  a  great,  nay,  even  the  only  objection 
to  the  whole  of  our  critique,  if  there  were  a  possi- 
bility of  proving  a  priori  that  all  thinking  beings  are 
by  themselves  simple  substances,  that,  as  such  (as  a 
consequence  of  the  same  argument),  personality  is 
inseparable  from  them,  and  that  they  are  conscious 
of  their  existence  as  distinct  from  all  matter.  For  we 
should  thus  have  made  a  step  beyond  the  world  of 
sense  and  entered  into  the  field  of  noumena,  and  after 
that  no  one  could  dare  to  question  our  right  of  ad- 
vancing further,  of  settling  in  it,  and,  as  each  of  us  is 
favored  by  luck,  taking  possession  of  it.  The  propo- 
sition that  every  thinking  being  is,  as  such,  a  simple 
substance,  is  synthetical  a  priori,  because,  first,  it  goes 
beyond  the  concept  on  which  it  rests,  and  adds  to 
act  of  thinking  in  general  the  mode  of  existence;  and 
secondly,  because  it  adds  to  that  concept  a  predicate 
(simplicity)  which  cannot  be  given  in  any  experi- 
ence. Hence  synthetical  propositions  a  priori  would 
be  not  only  admissible,  as  we  maintained,  in  refer- 
ence to  objects  of  possible  experience,  and  then  only 
as  principles  of  the  possibility  of  that  experience, 
but  could  be  extended  to  things  in  general  and  to 
things  by  themselves,  a  result  which  would  put  an 
end  to  the  whole  of  our  critique,  and  bid  us  to  leave 
everything  as  we  found  it.  However,  the  danger  is 

168 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

not  so  great,  if  only  we  look  more  closely  into  the 
matter. 

"  In  this  process  of  rational  psychology  there  lurks 
a  paralogism,  which  may  be  represented  by  the  fol- 
lowing syllogism. 

:<That  which  cannot  be  conceived  otherwise  than  as 
a  subject,  does  not  exist  otherwise  than  as  a  subject, 
and  is  therefore  a  substance. 

"A  thinking  being,  considered  as  such,  cannot  be 
conceived  otherwise  than  as  a  subject. 

"Therefore  it  exists  also  as  such  only,  that  is,  as  a 
substance."  (Page  795.) 

That  much  of  this  is  verbal  or  a  matter  of  definition 
appears  from  another  passage  in  the  discussion  of  the 
second  edition  as  follows:  "In  all  judgments  I  am 
always  the  determining  subject  only  of  the  relation 
which  constitutes  the  judgment.  That  I,  who  think, 
can  be  considered  in  thinking  as  subject  only,  and  as 
something  not  simply  inherent  in  the  thinking,  as  pre- 
dicate, is  an  apodictical  and  even  identical  proposi- 
tion; but  it  does  not  mean  that,  as  an  object,  I  am  a 
self-dependent  being  or  a  substance."  (Page  793.) 

Here  Kant  shows  that  he  has  a  peculiar  metaphysi- 
cal notion  of  the  meaning  of  substance.  The  thinking 
subject  is  one  and  identical,  but  this  fact  does  not  mean 
that  as  an  object  he  is  a  self-dependent  being  or  a  sub- 
stance. Here  Kant  has  certainly  dropped  back  into 
the  Cartesian  or  Spinozistic  notion  of  substance  and 
defined  it  as  self-dependent.  For  all  ordinary  pur- 
poses and  for  the  whole  field  of  practical  life  it  suffices 
to  define  substance  as  that  which  can  act  or  be  acted 
upon.  If  we  can  produce  effects  and  account  for  some- 

169 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

thing  in  the  ongoing  of  events,  and  if  we  can  be  acted 
upon  by  things  beyond  us,  then  we  are  substances  in  a 
real  sense  of  the  term,  and  we  are  not  made  unsubstan- 
tial by  the  declaration  that  we  are  not  self-existent 
and  self-sufficient.  If  we  take  this  to  be  Kant's  mean- 
ing of  substance,  then  his  argument  simply  amounts 
to  this,  that  we  human  beings  are  not  self-dependent; 
but  nobody  ever  claimed  that  we  are. 

Kant  further  argues  against  the  simplicity  of  the 
self,  but  with  equal  lack  of  success.  Unity  and  iden- 
tity of  the  subject,  he  says,  does  not  prove  the  unity 
and  identity  of  the  substance.  He  nowhere  attempts 
to  show  how  a  [composite  substance]  can  give  rise  to  a 
unitary  consciousness,  but  he  uses  an  illustration  to 
show  how  identity  of  the  subject  might  be  combined 
with  [change]  of  substance.  When  an  elastic  ball 
strikes  another  of  equal  mass  the  former  comes  to  rest 
and  the  latter  moves  on.  Kant  speaks  of  this  as  one 
body  transferring  its  state  to  another,  and  in  the 
same  way  he  suggests  a  mental  substance  might  trans- 
fer its  entire  consciousness  to  another.  The  conscious- 
ness being  thus  passed  along  from  one  to  another,  the 
subject  would  remain  identical  while  the  substance 
would  be  incessantly  changing.  But  this  notion  of  a 
transmitted  consciousness  is  a  piece  of  picture-think- 
ing which  does  not  admit  of  being  followed  out  in  any 
way.  If  there  were  a  conscious  subject  with  its  con- 
scious states  capable  of  passing  along  from  one  sub- 
stance to  another,  it  would  certainly  be  able  to  dis- 
pense with  the  substances  altogether,  for  we  need  no 
such  substance.  This  living,  thinking  self,  which  is 
mysterious  enough,  no  doubt,  in  many  phases  of  its 

170 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

existence,  but  is  nevertheless  what  all  mean  when  we 
speak  of  ourselves,  is  the  only  substance  we  know 
anything  about,  and  philosophizing  can  only  hope  to 
make  progress  by  assimilating  all  other  objects  and 
processes  to  just  this  self-conscious  experience.  It  is, 
then,  this  life  continuing  in  self-identification  through 
its  various  phases  that  really  constitutes  what  we 
mean  by  substance,  and  any  other  substance  which 
cannot  be  assimilated  to  this  is  more  than  unknow- 
able, it  is  an  unaffirmable  fiction.  Kant  says,  "That 
the  Ego  of  apperception,  and  therefore  the  Ego  in 
every  act  of  thought,  is  a  singular  which  cannot  be 
dissolved  into  a  plurality  of  subjects,  and  that  it  there- 
fore signifies  a  logically  simple  subject,  follows  from 
the  very  concept  of  thinking,  and  is  consequently  an 
analytical  proposition.  But  this  does  not  mean  that  a 
thinking  Ego  is  a  simple  substance,  which  would  in- 
deed be  a  synthetical  proposition."  (Page  794.)  The 
reply  to  all  this  is  that  there  is  no  way  of  conceiving 
how  the  thinking  subject  could  be  looked  upon  as  a 
composite  of  a  plurality  of  subjects,  and  therefore  it 
is  to  be  regarded  as  one  in  experience;  and  as  for  that 
substance  over  and  above  this  living  self  of  conscious 
experience,  we  assume  that  we  know  nothing  about 
that,  and  for  the  really  sufficient  reason  that  there  is 
no  such  thing  to  know.  We  set  aside,  therefore,  Kant's 
criticism  of  the  "first  paralogism  of  substantiality" 
and  also  of  the  "second  paralogism  of  simplicity," 
as  resting  partly  upon  Kant's  determined  denial  of 
the  possibility  of  [noumenal]  knowledge,  and  secondly, 
upon  a  conception  of  substance  which  must  be  looked 
upon  as  outgrown.  In  the  second  edition  Kant  adds 

171 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

a  refutation  of  Mendelssohn's  proof  of  the  perman- 
ence of  the  soul,  that  is,  of  immortality.  The  earlier 
arguments  for  immortality  were  based  upon  the  as- 
sumption that  destruction  takes  place  through  de- 
composition. In  physical  change  there  is  nowhere  any 
destruction  of  the  substantiality:  there  is  only  decom- 
position and  recomposition.  This  fact  applies  only 
to  form.  The  principal  reality  itself  cannot  perish  by 
decomposition:  it  being  simple  it  admits  of  no  such 
process;  hence  it  is  common  to  regard  the  physical 
elements  as  indestructible  at  least  by  any  natural  pro- 
cess, and  hence  as  eternal.  Now,  if  we  apply  similar 
reasoning  to  the  soul  conceived  of  as  simple  substance 
we  bring  it  under  the  head  of  reality  in  general,  and 
since  as  simple  substance  it  admits  of  no  decomposi- 
tion we  may  regard  it  as  eternal.  To  this  Kant  replies 
by  saying  that  it  is  very  far  from  proof,  because  a  sim- 
ple substance  might  vanish,  not  through  decomposi- 
tion but  through  flickering  out.  Thus,  force  or  energy 
of  any  kind  does  not  admit  of  division  in  a  spatial 
sense,  but  it  does  come  under  the  head  of  intensity; 
and  thus  intensity  may  conceivably  pass  through  all 
degrees  down  to  zero,  in  which  case  there  would  be  no 
energy  any  longer.  Hence  the  argument  for  immortal- 
ity can  in  no  way  be  looked  upon  as  a  demonstration. 
As  a  result  of  all  these  considerations  Kant  concludes 
that  the  basal  propositions  of  rational  psychology  con- 
cerning the  simplicity,  unity,  identity,  and  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  cannot  be  looked  upon  as  being  pro- 
perly demonstrated.  The  argument  by  which  it  is 
sought  to  prove  them  turns  out,  he  thinks,  upon  exam- 
ination to  be  sophistical.  This  view  does  not  disprove 

172 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

the  doctrine  in  question.  It  simply  shows  that  by  dint 
of  great  reasoning  we  can  never  attain  to  certain 
knowledge  in  this  matter.  And  this  Kant  regards  as 
really  no  loss  because  he  thinks  these  arguments  never 
produce  any  conviction  and  their  rejection  ought 
never  to  remove  any.  In  the  continual  identification 
of  ourselves  in  conscious  experience  we  have  all  the 
proof  of  unity  and  identity  we  need;  and  in  the  possi- 
bility of  acting  and  producing  effects  we  have  equal 
proof  of  our  reality,  and  in  the  demands  of  our  moral 
nature  we  have  equal  practical  warrant  for  the  belief 
in  a  future  life,  and  this  is  all  that  the  thought  of  man 
in  general  demands.  Anything  beyond  this  he  thinks 
is  simply  due  to  pride  of  the  scholastic  reasoning,  and 
that  is  not  a  matter  of  much  practical  importance  any 
way. 

In  all  of  this  Kant  is  not  entirely  off  the  track.  Cer- 
tainly no  one  nowadays  would  seek  to  demonstrate 
immortality,  or  to  prove  the  possibility  of  our  con- 
tinued existence  in  incorporeal  life,  and  other  things 
associated  with  our  religious  notions.  They  are  to  be 
looked  upon  in  some  sense  as  matters  of  faith  or  at 
least  of  belief,  rather  than  of  demonstration.  At  the 
same  time  Kant's  criticism  is  about  equally  bad  with 
the  argument  which  he  rejects.  As  we  have  seen,  he 
holds  an  impossible  notion  of  substance  and  then  by 
his  [doctrine  of]  phenomenal  knowledge  entangles  him- 
self in  both  logical  and  psychological  construction.  We 
should  nowadays,  as  already  suggested,  give  a  very 
different  definition  of  substance  from  that  which  Kant 
gave.  With  the  [conception]  of  substance  as  he  has 
given  it  we  are  shut  up  at  once  to  Spinozistic  panthe- 

173 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

ism;  but  when  we  regard  substantial  things  as  simply 
those  which  can  act  and  be  acted  upon,  we  find  it  en- 
tirely possible  to  be  ourselves  substances.  At  the  same 
time,  since  we  cannot  regard  ourselves  as  absolutely 
independent,  it  is  plain  that  our  existence  is  condi- 
tioned by  something  beyond  ourselves,  and  in  that 
something  we  must  really  look  for  the  reason  for  our 
going  into  existence,  our  remaining  in  existence,  or  our 
coming  out  of  existence.  No  reflection  upon  ourselves 
as  able  to  act  and  be  acted  upon  reveals  in  any  way 
the  immortality  of  our  being.  For  this  belief  we  must 
have  recourse  either  to  revelation  or  to  some  needs  or 
implications  of  our  religious  and  moral  nature.  Specu- 
lation as  such  cannot  furnish  the  faith.  It  will  be  seen, 
then,  that  we  agree  to  some  extent  with  Kant's  con- 
clusion, though  by  no  means  can  we  accept  the  argu- 
ment by  which  he  reaches  it.  We  may  close  this  dis- 
cussion by  a  quotation  from  Kant  himself,  in  which 
he  sets  forth  the  harmlessness  of  his  results  for  practi- 
cal purposes. 

66 Nothing  is  lost,  however,  by  this  with  regard  to 
the  right,  nay,  the  necessity  of  admitting  a  future  life, 
according  to  the  principles  of  practical,  as  connected 
with  the  speculative  employment  of  reason.  It  is 
known  besides,  that  a  purely  speculative  proof  has 
never  been  able  to  exercise  any  influence  on  the  ordin- 
ary reason  of  men.  It  stands  so  entirely  upon  the 
point  of  a  hair  that  even  the  schools  can  only  keep  it 
from  falling  so  long  as  they  keep  it  constantly  spinning 
round  like  a  top,  so  that,  even  in  their  own  eyes,  it 
yields  no  permanent  foundation  upon  which  anything 
could  be  built.  The  proofs  which  are  useful  for  the 

174 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

world  at  large  retain  their  value  undiminished,  nay, 
they  gain  in  clearness  and  natural  power,  by  the  sur- 
render of  those  dogmatical  pretensions,  placing  reason 
in  its  own  peculiar  domain,  namely,  the  system  of 
ends,  which  is,  however,  at  the  same  time  the  system 
of  nature;  so  that  reason,  as  a  practical  faculty  by  it- 
self, without  being  limited  by  the  conditions  of  nature, 
becomes  justified  in  extending  the  system  of  ends,  and 
with  it,  our  own  existence,  beyond  the  limits  of  experi- 
ence and  of  life.  According  to  the  analogy  with  the 
nature  of  living  beings  in  this  world,  in  which  reason 
must  necessarily  admit  the  principle  that  no  organ, 
no  faculty,  no  impulse,  can  be  found,  as  being  either 
superfluous  or  disproportionate  to  its  use,  and  there- 
fore purposeless,  but  that  everything  is  adequate  to 
its  destination  in  life,  man,  who  alone  can  contain  in 
himself  the  highest  end  of  all  this,  would  be  the  only 
creature  excepted  from  it.  For,  his  natural  disposi- 
tions, not  only  so  far  as  he  uses  them  according  to  his 
talents  and  impulses,  but  more  especially  the  moral 
law  within  him,  go  so  far  beyond  all  that  is  useful  and 
advantageous  in  this  life  that  he  is  taught  thereby, 
in  the  absence  of  all  advantages,  even  of  the  shadowy 
hope  of  posthumous  fame,  to  esteem  the  mere  con- 
sciousness of  righteousness  beyond  everything  else, 
feeling  an  inner  call,  by  his  conduct  in  this  world  and 
a  surrender  of  many  advantages,  to  render  himself  fit 
to  become  the  citizen  of  a  better  world,  which  exists 
in  his  idea  only.  This  powerful  and  incontrovertible 
proof,  accompanied  by  our  constantly  increasing  re- 
cognition of  a  design  pervading  all  that  we  see  around 
us,  and  by  a  contemplation  of  the  immensity  of  crea- 

175 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

tion,  and  therefore  also  by  the  consciousness  of  an  un- 
limited possibility  in  the  extension  of  our  knowledge, 
and  a  desire  commensurate  therewith,  all  this  remains 
and  always  will  remain,  although  we  must  surrender 
the  hope  of  ever  being  able  to  understand,  from  the 
mere  theoretical  knowledge  of  ourselves,  the  neces- 
sary continuance  of  our  existence."  (Page  803.)  From 
this  it  plainly  appears  that  Kant  did  not  regard  his 
work  as  practically  destructive.  As  he  says  in  an- 
other place,  he  disputes  knowledge  and  makes  room 
for  belief.  His  claim  is  that  the  theoretical  faculty  is 
not  self-contradictory  when  it  remains  within  its  own 
field.  It  is  only  limited  in  itself  and  falls  into  contra- 
dictions and  illusions  when  it  goes  beyond  the  limits 
established  in  its  own  nature.  But  inasmuch  as  man  is 
not  merely  speculative  but  active,  not  merely  theoret- 
ical but  practical,  not  merely  understanding  but  will 
and  conscience,  belief  may  be  practically  determined 
for  us  by  the  practical  necessities  arising  out  of  life 
itself,  so  that  what  the  understanding  cannot  do  be- 
cause of  its  own  inherent  limitations,  life  itself  may 
accomplish  because  of  its  own  practical  needs  and 
moral  and  religious  intuitions.  The  field  outside  of 
the  understanding,  however,  while  it  may  not  be 
made  a  realm  for  dogmatic  affirmation,  can  also  not 
be  made  a  realm  for  dogniatic  denial.  Accordingly 
Kant  claims  that  he  has  dtfne  an  important  work  in 
the  way  of  overthrowing  all  materialistic  and  atheis- 
tic teaching,  for  this  rests  upon  the  dogmatic  use  of 
the  understanding  in  a  field  to  which  it  has  no  proper 
application.  It  is  possible,  then,  for  the  moral  and  re- 
ligious nature  to  see  visions  and  dream  dreams  with- 

176 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  DIALECTIC 

out  being  molested  in  any  way  by  the  old  denials  of 
the  materialist  and  the  atheist.  For  religion  and  con- 
science have  life  on  their  side,  and  do  not  therefore 
float  in  the  air;  whereas  atheism  and  materialism  have 
neither  life  [nor  its  ideals]  on  their  side,  while  their 
reasoning  is  disposed  of  by  the  general  results  of  the 
critical  philosophy. 


VII 

THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

AFTER  discussing  the  paralogisms  of  pure  reason 
which  deal  with  rational  psychology,  Kant  next  pro- 
ceeds to  the  antinomy  of  pure  reason,  which  has  to 
do  with  rational  cosmology  or  the  general  doctrine 
of  the  world.  In  the  paralogisms  reason  falls  into 
arguments  which  are  such  only  in  appearance:  in  the 
antinomy  it  falls  into  contradiction  with  itself;  hence 
the  case  is  worse  with  reason  in  rational  cosmology 
than  it  is  in  rational  psychology.  In  this  field  of 
cosmology  the  reason  falls  into  four  contradictions. 
In  its  natural  play  it  is  led  to  regard  the  world  as  in- 
finite and  also  as  finite.  It  is  also  led  to  affirm  caus- 
ality, and  furthermore  a  conditioned  being  and  an 
unconditioned  being.  Thus  against  each  affirmation 
or  thesis,  as  Kant  calls  it,  it  can  establish  with  equal 
confidence  an  antithesis,  and  thus  the  essential  con- 
tradiction of  reason  is  revealed.  Of  the  four  anti- 
nomies thus  arising  two  are  concerned  with  the  world 
in  experience  and  time,  and  the  other  two  are  con- 
cerned with  the  metaphysical  ideas  of  causality  and 
being  as  conditioned  or  unconditioned.  The  first  two 
antinomies  Kant  calls  the  mathematical,  the  second 
two  he  calls  the  dynamic.  We  consider  these  now  in 
their  order.  Kant  is  by  no  means  so  successful  in  his 
argument  here  as  he  seems  to  think. 

178 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 


FIBST  CONFLICT  OF  THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  IDEAS 


Thesis 

The  world  has  a  beginning  in 
time,  and  is  limited  also  with  re- 
gard to  space. 

Proof 

For  if  we  assumed  that  the 
world  had  no  beginning  in  time, 
then  an  eternity  must  have 
elapsed  up  to  every  given  point  of 
time,  and  therefore  an  infinite  se- 
ries of  successive  states  of  things 
must  have  passed  in  the  world. 
The  infinity  of  a  series,  however, 
consists  in  this,  that  it  never  can 
be  completed  by  means  of  a  suc- 
cessive synthesis.  Hence  an  infin- 
ite past  series  of  worlds  is  impos- 
sible, and  the  beginning  of  the 
world  a  necessary  condition  of  its 
existence.  This  was  what  had  to 
be  proved  first. 

With  regard  to  the  second,  let 
us  assume  again  the  opposite.  In 
that  case  the  world  would  be  given 
as  an  infinite  whole  of  coexisting 
things.  Now,  we  cannot  conceive 
in  any  way  the  extension  of  a 
quantum,  which  is  not  given 
within  certain  limits  to  every  intu- 
ition,  except  through  the  synthe- 
sis of  its  parts,  nor  the  totality  of 
such  a  quantum  in  any  way,  ex- 
cept through  a  completed  synthe- 
sis, or  by  the  repeated  addition  of 
unity  to  itself.  In  order,  therefore, 
to  conceive  the  world,  which  fills 
all  space,  as  a  whole,  the  succes- 
sive synthesis  of  the  parts  of  an 
infinite  world  would  have  to  be 


Antithesis 

The  world  has  no  beginning  and 
no  limits  in  space,  but  is  infinite,  in 
respect  both  to  time  and  space. 

Proof 

For  let  us  assume  that  it  has  a 
beginning.  Then,  as  beginning  is 
an  existence  which  is  preceded  by 
a  time  in  which  the  thing  is  not, 
it  would  follow  that  antecedently 
there  was  a  time  in  which  the 
world  was  not,  that  is,  an  empty 
time.  In  an  empty  time,  however, 
it  is  impossible  that  anything 
should  take  its  beginning,  because 
of  such  a  time  no  part  possesses 
any  condition  as  to  existence 
rather  than  non-existence,  which 
condition  could  distinguish  that 
part  from  any  other  (whether  pro- 
duced by  itself  or  through  an- 
other cause) .  Hence,  though  many 
a  series  of  things  may  take  its  be- 
ginning in  the  world,  the  world  it- 
self can  have  no  beginning,  and  in 
reference  to  time  past  is  infinite. 

With  regard  to  the  second,  let 
us  assume  again  the  opposite, 
namely,  that  the  world  is  finite 
and  limited  in  space.  In  that  case 
the  world  would  exist  in  an  empty 
space  without  limits.  We  should, 
therefore,  have  not  only  a  rela- 
tion of  things  in  space,  but  also 
of  things  to  space.  As,  however, 
the  world  is  an  absolute  whole, 
outside  of  which  no  object  of  intu- 
ition, and  therefore  no  correlate  of 
the  world  can  be  found,  the  rela- 


179 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

looked  upon  as  completed;  that  is,  tion  of  the  world  to  empty  space 
an  infinite  time  would  have  to  would  be  a  relation  to  no  object, 
be  looked  upon  as  elapsed,  during  Such  a  relation,  and  with  it  the 
the  enumeration  of  all  coexisting  limitation  of  the  world  by  empty 
things.  This  is  impossible.  Hence  space,  is  nothing,  and  therefore 
an  infinite  aggregate  of  real  things  the  world  is  not  limited  with  regard 
cannot  be  regarded  as  a  given  to  space,  that  is,  it  is  infinite  in 
whole,  nor,  therefore,  as  given  at  extension, 
the  same  time.  Hence  it  follows  (Pages  344^6.) 

that  the  world  is  not  infinite,  as 
regards  extension  in  space,  but 
enclosed  in  limits.  This  was  the 
second  that  had  to  be  proved. 

In  the  case  of  this  antinomy  both  the  proof  and  the 
disproof  are  unsatisfactory.  First,  with  regard  to  the 
limitation  of  the  world  in  time  and  space.  He  says 
if  we  assume  that  the  world  had  no  beginning  in  time, 
then  an  eternity  must  have  elapsed  up  to  every  given 
point  of  time,  and  therefore  an  infinite  series  of  suc- 
cessive states  of  things  must  have  passed  in  the  world. 
The  infinity  of  a  series,  however,  consists  in  this,  that 
it  never  can  be  completed  by  means  of  a  successive 
synthesis;  hence  an  infinite  past  series  of  worlds  is 
impossible,  and  a  beginning  of  the  world  is  a  condi- 
tion of  its  existence. 

With  regard  to  this,  the  difficulty  lies  in  the  notion 
of  the  infinite  lapsed  time,  for  if  we  suppose  time  to  be 
anything  that  really  flows  and  suppose  that  this  flow 
is  infinite,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  at  all  in  sup- 
posing that  there  should  be  an  infinite  series  of  events 
as  old  as  the  temporal  flow  itself;  and  the  infinity  of 
past  time,  supposing  time  to  be  anything  whatever, 
seems  not  to  have  any  special  difficulty  in  it  when  we 
reflect  upon  what  that  infinity  really  means.  It  does 
not  mean  that  the  flow  includes  all  time  and  admits 

180 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

of  no  increase.  It  means  only  that  in  the  temporal 
regress  we  should  not  come  to  a  beginning  in  any  finite 
period,  as  we  should  come  to  no  end  in  any  finite  pro- 
gress. Kant,  then,  might  have  dropped  the  considera- 
tion of  the  world  altogether,  unless  he  includes  time 
itself  as  a  kind  of  something  in  the  world,  and  devoted 
his  attention  to  the  conception  of  infinite  time. 

The  necessary  limitation  of  the  world  in  space  is 
even  more  unsatisfactory  in  its  proof.  He  says:  "Let 
us  assume  again  the  opposite.  In  that  case  the  world 
would  be  given  as  an  infinite  whole  of  coexisting 
things.  Now  we  cannot  conceive  in  any  way  the 
extension  of  a  quantum,  which  is  not  given  within 
certain  limits  to  every  intuition,  except  through  the 
synthesis  of  its  parts,  nor  the  totality  of  such  a 
quantum  in  any  way  except  through  a  completed 
synthesis,  or  by  the  repeated  addition  of  unity  to 
itself.  In  order,  therefore,  to  conceive  the  world, 
which  fills  all  space,  as  a  whole,  the  successive  synthe- 
sis of  the  parts  of  an  infinite  world  would  have  to  be 
looked  upon  as  completed;  that  is,  an  infinite  time 
would  have  to  be  looked  upon  as  elapsed  during  the 
enumeration  of  all  coexisting  things.  This  is  impossi- 
ble. Hence  an  infinite  aggregate  of  real  things  cannot 
be  regarded  as  a  given  whole,  nor,  therefore,  as  given 
at  the  same  time.  Hence  it  follows  that  the  world  is 
not  infinite,  as  regards  extension  in  space,  but  en- 
closed in  limits." 

Here  the  gist  of  the  argument  lies  in  confusing 
thinking  with  picturing.  We  cannot  picture  an  infin- 
ite quantity  or  infinite  number,  but  we  might  well 
conceive  that  the  quantity  or  the  number  has  no  end. 

181 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

We  really  do  not  conceive  the  infinity  of  space  by  any 
successive  movement  of  the  imagination,  adding  part 
to  part  and  forever  moving  on  and  upward.  We 
rather  conceive  it  by  our  insight  into  the  space  law, 
which  tells  us  that  this  law,  in  the  nature  of  the  case, 
admits  of  no  [exhaustion],  that  space  is  to  be  viewed 
as  infinite  if  it  is  to  be  viewed  as  anything  by  itself. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  numerical  series.  We  certainly 
do  not  conceive  any  large  number  by  adding  unit  to 
unit  or  by  paying  much  attention  to  any  of  the 
particular  units.  We  rather  confine  ourselves  to  the 
numerical  law  in  the  case,  and  by  means  of  our  know- 
ledge of  this  law  we  are  able  to  deal  with  large  num- 
bers with  perfect  certainty,  although  imagination 
itself  would  be  totally  incapable  of  representing  it. 
The  infinitude  of  number  is  reached  in  the  same  way. 
We  perceive  by  reflection  on  the  numerical  series  that 
it  admits  of  no  exhaustion,  but  may  be  carried  on  in- 
definitely and  forever.  And  this  we  express  by  saying 
that  number  is  infinite.  No  given  number,  of  course, 
can  be  infinite,  and  we  have  only  to  add  one  to  that 
given  number  to  increase  it  by  a  unit;  but  a  numeri- 
cal object  in  its  essential  exhaustible  character  is  such 
that  we  affirm  the  infinitude  of  number. 

In  the  antithesis  Kant  claims  to  prove  that  the 
world  has  no  beginning  and  no  limits  in  space,  but  is 
infinite  both  in  respect  to  time  and  to  space.  The 
proof  runs:  "For  let  us  assume  that  it  has  a  beginning. 
Then,  as  beginning  is  an  existence  which  is  preceded 
by  a  time  in  which  the  thing  is  not,  it  would  follow 
that  antecedently  there  was  a  time  in  which  the  world 
was  not,  that  is,  an  empty  time.  In  an  empty  time, 

182 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

however,  it  is  impossible  that  anything  should  take 
its  beginning,  because  of  such  a  time  no  part  pos- 
sesses any  condition  as  to  existence  rather  than  non- 
existence,  which  condition  could  distinguish  that 
part  from  any  other  (whether  produced  by  itself,  or 
through  another  cause).  Hence,  though  many  a  series 
of  things  may  take  its  beginning  in  the  world,  the 
world  itself  can  have  no  beginning,  and  in  reference 
to  time  past  is  infinite." 

Here  Kant  assumes  that  the  world  equals  all  exist- 
ence, conditioned  and  unconditioned  alike,  and  all  that 
he  gives  us  is  a  rather  operose  statement  of  the  fact 
that  something  must  have  always  existed,  for  if  there 
ever  was  a  time  when  nothing  existed  that  void  would 
have  remained  unfilled  forevermore;  but  supposing 
the  existence  of  some  unconditioned  being,  say  God, it 
is  entirely  conceivable  that  the  world,  that  is,  the  cos- 
mic system  or  the  system  of  finite  things,  might  have 
had  a  beginning  in  time,  not  through  some  potency  of 
impotent  time,  but  through  the  causal"  power  of  the 
infinite. 

The  infinitude  of  the  world  with  respect  to  space  is 
proved  by  an  argument  bordering  closely  on  sophistry. 
He  says:  "Let  us  assume  again  the  opposite,  namely, 
that  the  world  is  finite  and  limited  in  space.  In  that 
case  the  world  would  exist  in  an  empty  space  without 
limits.  We  should  therefore  have  not  only  a  relation 
of  things  in  space,  but  also  of  things  to  space.  As, 
however,  the  world  is  an  absolute  whole,  outside  of 
which  no  object  of  intuition,  and  therefore  no  corre- 
late of  the  world  can  be  found,  the  relation  of  the 
world  to  empty  space  would  be  a  relation  to  no  ob- 

183 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

ject.  Such  a  relation,  and  with  it  the  limitation  of  the 
world  by  empty  space,  is  nothing,  and  therefore  the 
world  is  not  limited  with  regard  to  space,  that  is,  it 
is  infinite  in  extension."  In  criticism  of  this  argu- 
ment, suppose  we  have  a  sphere  three  feet  in  diameter, 
and  can  also  conceive  [that  all  things]  outside  of  this 
sphere  should  fall  away.  In  that  case  the  sphere  would 
have  nothing  beyond  it  but  empty  space,  which  is  no- 
thing and  can  limit  nothing,  hence  the  sphere  would 
become  unlimited,  yet  all  the  while  its  diameter 
would  remain  three  feet.  There  certainly  would  be 
nothing  in  the  passing  of  other  things  to  make  this 
three-foot  sphere  infinite  in  the  positive  sense  of  the 
word. 

We  now  pass  to  the  second  antinomy,  which  has  to 
do  with  the  composition  or  simplicity  of  things  in  the 
world. 

THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

SECOND  CONFLICT  OF  THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  IDEAS 

Thesis  Antithesis 

Every  compound  substance  in  No  compound  thing  in  the  world 

the  world  consists  of  simple  parts,  consists  of  simple  parts,  and  there 

and  nothing  exists  anywhere  but  exists  nowhere  in  the  world  any- 

the  simple,  or  what  is  composed  thing  simple. 
of  it. 

Proof  Proof 

For  let  us    assume  that  com-  Assume  that  a  compound  thing, 

pound  substances  did  not  consist  a   substance,   consists   of   simple 

of  simple  parts,  then,  if  all  com-  parts.    Then,  as  all  external  rela- 

position  is  removed  in  thought,  tion,  and  therefore  all  composi- 

there  would  be  no  compound  part,  tion  of  substances  also,  is  possible 

and  (as  no  simple  parts  are  ad-  in  space  only,  it  follows  that  space 

mitted)  no  simple  part  either,  that  must  consist  of  as  many  parts  as 

is,  there  would  remain  nothing,  the  parts  of  the  compound  that 

and  there  would  therefore  be  no  occupies  the  space.    Space,  how- 

184 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 


substance  at  all.  Either,  therefore, 
it  is  impossible  to  remove  all 
composition  in  thought,  or,  after 
its  removal,  there  must  remain 
something  that  exists  without 
composition,  that  is,  the  simple. 
In  the  former  case  the  compound 
could  not  itself  consist  of  sub- 
stances (because  with  them  com- 
position is  only  an  accidental 
relation  of  substances,  which  sub- 
stances, as  permanent  beings, 
must  subsist  without  it).  As  this 
contradicts  the  supposition,  there 
remains  only  the  second  view, 
namely,  that  the  substantial  com- 
pounds in  the  world  consist  of 
simple  parts. 

It  follows  as  an  immediate  con- 
sequence that  all  the  things  in  the 
world  are  simple  beings,  that 
their  composition  is  only  an  ex- 
ternal condition,  and  that,  though 
we  are  unable  to  remove  these  ele- 
mentary substances  from  their 
state  of  composition  and  isolate 
them,  reason  must  conceive  them 
as  the  first  subjects  of  all  com- 
position, and  therefore,  antece- 
dently to  it,  as  simple  beings. 


ever,  does  not  consist  of  simple 
parts,  but  of  spaces.  Every  part 
of  a  compound,  therefore,  must 
occupy  a  space.  Now  the  abso- 
lutely primary  parts  *  of f  every 
compound  are  simple.  It  follows, 
therefore,  that  the  simple  occupies 
a  space.  But  as  everything  real 
which  occupies  a  space  contains 
a  manifold,  the  parts  of  which  are 
by  the  side  of  each  other,  and 
which  therefore  is  compounded, 
and,  as  a  real  compound,  com- 
pounded not  of  accidents  (for  these 
could  not  exist  by  the  side  of  each 
other,  without  a  substance),  but 
of  substances,  it  would  follow  that 
the  simple  is  a  substantial  com- 
pound, which  is  self-contradict- 
ory. 

The  second  proposition  of  the 
antithesis,  that  there  exists  no- 
where in  the  world  anything  sim- 
ple, is  not  intended  to  mean  more 
than  that  the  existence  of  the  ab- 
solutely simple  cannot  be  proved 
from  any  experience  or  perception, 
whether  external  or  internal,  and 
that  the  absolutely  simple  is  a 
mere  idea,  the  objective  reality  of 
which  can  never  be  shown  in  any 
possible  experience,  so  that  in  the 
explanation  of  phenomena  it  is 
without  any  application  or  object. 
For,  if  we  assumed  that  an  object 
of  this  transcendental  idea  might 
be  found  in  experience,  the  empiri- 
cal intuition  of  some  one  object 
would  have  to  be  such  as  to  con- 
tain absolutely  nothing  manifold 
by  the  side  of  each  other,  and  com- 
bined to  a  unity.  But  as,  from  our 
not  being  conscious  of  such  a  man- 
ifold we  cannot  form  any  valid 


185 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

conclusion  as  to  the  entire  impos- 
sibility of  it  in  any  objective  intu- 
ition, and  as  without  this  no  abso- 
lute simplicity  can  be  established, 
it  follows  that  such  simplicity  can- 
not be  inferred  from  any  percep- 
tion whatsoever.  As,  therefore,  an 
absolutely  simple  object  can  never 
be  given  in  any  possible  experience, 
while  the  world  of  sense  must  be 
looked  upon  as  the  sum  total  of  all 
possible  experience,  it  follows  that 
nothing  simple  exists  in  it. 

This  second  part  of  the  antithe- 
sis goes  far  beyond  the  first,  which 
only  banished  the  simple  from  the 
intuition  of  the  composite,  while 
the  second  drives  it  out  of  the 
whole  of  nature.  Hence  we  could 
not  attempt  to  prove  it  out  of  the 
concept  of  any  given  object  of  ex- 
ternal intuition  (of  the  compound) 
but  from  its  relation  to  a  possible 
experience  in  general. 

(Page  352.) 

Here  the  argument  for  the  thesis,  namely,  that 
every  compound  substance  in  the  world  consists  of 
simple  parts,  is  valid,  for  compounds  exist  only  in  the 
components  just  as  number  exists  only  in  the  com- 
ponent units.  If,  then,  there  be  real  compounds,  there 
must  equally  be  uncompounded  components,  other- 
wise we  are  committed  to  the  infinite  regress  and  thus 
can  reach  no  stopping-place.  We  conclude,  then,  with 
Kant,  "It  follows  as  an  immediate  consequence  that 
all  the  things  in  the  world  are  simple  beings,  that  their 
composition  is  only  an  external  condition,  and  that, 
though  we  are  unable  to  remove  these  elementary 
substances  from  their  state  of  composition  and  isolate 

186 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

them,  reason  must  conceive  them  as  the  first  subjects 
of  all  composition,  and  therefore,  antecedently  to  it, 
as  simple  beings."  The  only  escape  from  this  con- 
clusion would  be  to  say  that  things  are  neither  com- 
pounded nor  simple,  which  may  possibly  be  the  case 
with  phenomena  in  general,  but  so  long  as  we  regard 
them  as  real  things  there  is  no  escape  from  passing 
from  a  world  of  experience  to  a  world  of  simple 
components. 

The  proof  of  the  antithesis,  namely,  that  no  com- 
pound in  the  world  consists  of  simple  parts,  and  that 
[there  exists]  nowhere  in  the  world  anything  simple, 
rests  on  the  nature  of  space  and  the  infinite  divisibility 
in  the  notion  of  existence  in  extension.  The  infinite 
divisibility  of  space  forbids  that  any  part  should  be 
viewed  as  ultimate,  for  so  long  as  we  can  suppose  any 
two  components  we  can  conceive  a  plane  to  be  passed 
between  them  and  thus  a  division  produced.  And  any- 
thing that  exists  in  extension  is  subject  to  the  same 
law.  It  is  therefore  impossible  to  find  in  the  extended 
any  ultimate  unities,  for  in  any  such  unities  we  can  dis- 
tinguish components,  and  therefore  these  components 
are  mutually  external  and  admit  of  further  division. 
But  this  is  really  not  so  much  a  contradiction  of  the 
previous  argument  as  it  is  an  argument  for  the  phe- 
nomenality  of  space. 

These  two  antinomies  refer  to  the  world  as  existing 
in  space  and  time,  and  Kant's  solution  of  the  difficulty 
consists  in  affirming  the  phenomenality  of  space  and 
time,  from  which  he  concludes  that  both  the  thesis 
and  the  antithesis  disappear.  We  cannot  say  that  the 
world  must  be  finite  or  infinite  in  space  and  time.  We 

187 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

can  only  say  that  experience  gives  us  no  completed 
finitude  and  no  realized  infinitude,  and  hence  we  are 
compelled  to  accept  experience  as  not  deciding  the 
question,  and  we  are  left  entirely  free  to  leave  the 
question  undecided,  since  we  see  that  the  spatial  and 
temporal  laws  leave  the  question  forever  open.  If 
space  and  time  were  truly  existential  facts,  then  all 
existence  would  be  subject  to  them,  and  the  laws  of 
space  and  time,  with  their  infinite  divisibility  and 
their  infinite  extent,  would  apply  to  all  reality  and 
would  disperse  in  complete  illusion.  But  when  we  see 
that  space  and  time  are  only  laws  of  phenomena  or 
are  forms  of  experience,  we  escape  this  difficulty. 

THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

THIRD   CONFLICT  OF  THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  IDEAS 

Thesis  Antithesis 

Causality,  according  to  the  laws         There  is  no  freedon,  but  every^ 
of  nature,  is  not  the  only  causality     thing  in  the  world   takes  place 
from  which  all  the  phenomena  of     according  to  the  laws  of  nature, 
the  world  can  be  deduced.   In  or- 
der to  account  for  these  phenom- 
ena it  is  necessary  also  to  admit 
another  causality,  that  of  freedom. 

Proof  Proof 

Let  us  assume  that  there  is  no  If  we  admit  that  there  is  free- 
other  causality  but  that  according  dom,  in  the  transcendental  sense, 
to  the  laws  of  nature.  In  that  case  as  a  particular  kind  of  causality, 
everything  that  takes  place  pre-  according  to  which  the  events  in 
supposes  an  anterior  state,  on  the  world  could  take  place,  that  is, 
which  it  follows  inevitably  ac-  a  faculty  of  absolutely  originating 
cording  to  a  rule.  But  that  an-  a  state,  and  with  it  a  series  of  con- 
terior  state  must  itself  be  some-  sequences,  it  would  follow  that  not 
thing  which  has  taken  place  only  a  series  would  have  its  abso- 
(which  has  come  to  be  in  time,  and  lute  beginning  through  this  spon- 
did  not  exist  before),  because,  if  it  taneity,  but  the  determination  of 

188 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 


had  always  existed,  its  effect,  too, 
would  not  have  only  just  arisen, 
but  have  existed  always.  The 
causality,  therefore,  of  a  cause, 
through  which  something  takes 
place,  is  itself  an  event,  which 
again,  according  to  the  law  of  na- 
ture, presupposes  an  anterior  state 
and  its  causality,  and  this  again 
an  anterior  state,  and  so  on.  If, 
therefore,  everything  takes  place 
according  to  mere  laws  of  nature 
there  will  always  be  a  secondary 
only,  but  never  a  primary  begin- 
ning, and  therefore  no  complete- 
ness of  the  series,  on  the  side  of 
successive  causes.  But  the  law  of 
nature  consists  in  this,  that  no- 
thing takes  place  without  a  cause 
sufficiently  determined  a  priori. 
Therefore  the  proposition,  that 
all  causality  is  possible  according 
to  the  laws  of  nature  only,  con- 
tradicts itself,  if  taken  in  unlim- 
ited generality,  and  it  is  impos- 
sible, therefore,  to  admit  that 
causality  as  the  only  one. 

We  must,  therefore,  admit  an- 
other causality,  through  which 
something  takes  place,  without  its 
cause  being  further  determined, 
according  to  necessary  laws  by  a 
preceding  cause,  that  is,  an  ab- 
solute spontaneity  of  causes,  by 
which  a  series  of  phenomena,  pro- 
ceeding according  to  natural  laws, 
begins  by  itself;  we  must  conse- 
quently admit  transcendental  free- 
dom, without  which,  even  in  the 
course  of  nature,  the  series  of  phe- 
nomena on  the  side  of  causes,  can 
never  be  perfect. 


that  spontaneity  itself  to  produce 
the  series,  that  is,  the  causality, 
would  have  an  absolute  beginning, 
nothing  preceding  it  by  which  this 
act  is  determined  according  to  per- 
manent laws.  Every  beginning  of 
an  act,  however,  presupposes  a 
state  in  which  the  cause  is  not  yet 
active,  and  a  dynamically  primary 
beginning  of  an  act  presupposes  a 
state  which  has  no  causal  connec- 
tion with  the  preceding  state  of 
that  cause,  that  is,  hi  no  wise  fol- 
lows from  it.  Transcendental 
freedom  is,  therefore,  opposed  to 
the  law  of  causality,  and  repre- 
sents such  a  connection  of  succes- 
sive states  of  effective  causes  that 
no  unity  of  experience  is  possible 
with  it.  It  is,  therefore,  an  empty 
fiction  of  the  mind,  and  not  to  be 
met  with  hi  any  experience. 

We  have,  therefore,  nothing  but 
nature,  in  which  we  must  try  to 
find  the  connection  and  order  of 
cosmical  events.  Freedom  (inde- 
pendence) from  the  laws  of  nature 
is  no  doubt  a  deliverance  from  re- 
straint, but  also  from  the  guidance 
of  all  rules.  For  we  cannot  say 
that,  instead  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
laws  of  freedom  may  enter  into 
the  causality  of  the  course  of  the 
world,  because,  if  determined  by 
laws,  it  would  not  be  freedom,  but 
nothing  else  but  nature.  Nature, 
therefore,  and  transcendental  free- 
dom differ  from  each  other  like 
legality  and  lawlessness.  The 
former,  no  doubt,  imposes  upon 
the  understanding  the  difficult 
task  of  looking  higher  and  higher 
for  the  origin  of  events  in  the  series 
of  causes,  because  their  causality 


189 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 


is  always  conditioned.  In  return 
for  this,  however,  it  promises  a 
complete  and  well-ordered  unity 
of  experience;  while,  on  the  other 
side,  the  fiction  of  freedom  pro- 
mises, no  doubt,  to  the  inquiring 
mind,  rest  in  the  chain  of  causes, 
leading  him  up  to  an  uncondi- 
tioned causality,  which  begins  to 
act  by  itself,  but  which,  as  it  is 
blind  itself,  tears  the  thread  of 
rules  by  which  alone  a  complete 
and  coherent  experience  is  pos- 
sible. 

(Page    362.) 


This  antinomy  and  the  next  concern  our  more 
metaphysical  ideas  of  causation  and  the  fundamental 
reality.  [The  present  one]  deals  with  causality,  and 
the  thesis  is  that,  in  addition  to  causality  according  to 
the  laws  of  nature,  another  causality  of  freedom  must 
be  admitted.  The  proof  is  valid.  It  consists  in  saying 
that  causality  of  the  mechanical  type  only^contra- 
dicts  the  law  of  causation  itself.  It  is  like  "suspending 
a  chain  by  adding  links  to  the  upper  end,  without, 
however,  providing  any  hook  by  which  the  whole  may 
be  supported.  Either,  then,  there  must  be  a  reality 
which  refers  us  to  nothing  behind  it,  that  is,  a  caus- 
ality of  freedom,  or  causality  itself  disappears. 

The  proof  of  the  antithesis,  namely,  that  there  is 
no  freedom,  but  everything  in  the  world  takes  place 
entirely  according  to  the  laws  of  nature,  is  arbitrary 
and  fictitious.  Kant  says,  "Transcendental  freedom 
is,  therefore,  opposed  to  the  law  of  causality,  and  re- 
presents such  a  connection  of  successive  states  of 
effective  causes  that  no  unity  of  experience  is  possi- 

190 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

ble  with  it.  It  is,  therefore,  an  empty  fiction  of  the 
mind,  and  not  to  be  met  with  in  any  experience.  .  .  . 
Freedom  (independence)  from  the  laws  of  nature  is 
no  doubt  a  deliverance  from  restraint,  but  also  from 
the'  guidance  of  all  rules.  For  we  cannot  say  that, 
instead  of  the  laws  of  nature,  laws  of  freedom  may 
enter  into  the  causality  of  the  course  of  the  world,  be- 
cause, if  determined  by  laws, it  would  not  be  freedom, 
but  nothing  else  but  nature.  Nature,  therefore,  and 
transcendental  freedom  differ  from  each  other  like 
legality  and  lawlessness.  The  former,  no  doubt,  im- 
poses upon  the  understanding  the  difficult  task  of 
looking  higher  and  higher  for  the  origin  of  events  in 
the  series  of  causes,  because  their  causality  is  always 
conditioned.  In  return  for  this,  however,  it  promises  a 
complete  and  well-ordered  unity  of  e^geriencejjwhile, 
on  the  other  side,  the  fiction  of  freedom  premises,  no 
doubt,  to  the  inquiring  mind,  rest  in  the  chain  of  causes 
leading  him  up  to  an  unconditioned  causality,  which 
begins  to  act  by  itself,  but  which,  as  it  is  blind  itself, 
tears  the  thread  of  rules  by  which  alone  a  complete 
and  coherent  experience  is  possible." 

Kant  adds  some  observations  on  this  antithesis  as 
follows :  — 

"He  who  stands  up  for  the  omnipotence  of  nature 
(transcendental  physiocracy)  in  opposition  to  the  doc- 
trine of  freedom,  would  defend  his  position  against 
the  sophistical  conclusions  of  that  doctrine  in  the 
following  manner.  If  you  do  not  admit  something 
mathematically  the  first  in  the  world  with  reference 
to  time,  there  is  no  necessity  why  you  should  look  for 
something  dynamically  the  first  with  reference  to 

191 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

causality.  Who  has  told  you  to  invent  an  absolutely 
first  state  of  the  world,  and  with  it  an  absolute  be- 
ginning of  the  gradually  progressing  series  of  phenom- 
ena, and  to  set  limits  to  unlimited  nature  in  order 
to  give  to  your  imagination  something  to  rest  on?  As 
substances  have  always  existed  in  the  world,  or  as  the 
unity  of  experience  renders  at  least  such  a  supposi- 
tion necessary,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  assuming  that 
a  change  of  their  states,  that  is,  a  series  of  their 
changes,  has  always  existed  also,  so  that  there  is 
no  necessity  for  looking  for  a  first  beginning  either 
mathematically  or  dynamically."  (Page  365.)  — 

And  then  he  further  adds: 

"For  by  the  side  of  such  a  lawless  faculty  of  free- 
dom, nature  could  hardly  be  conceived  any  longer 
because  the  laws  of  the  latter  would  be  constantly 
changed  through  the  influence  of  the  former,  and 
the  play  of  phenomena  which,  according  to  nature, 
is  regular  and  uniform,  would  become  confused  and 
incoherent."  (Page  369.) 

There  is  vast  confusion  arising  through  this  proof 
of  the  antithesis.  To  begin  with,  the  statement 
that  freedom  is  "opposed  to  the  law  of  causality  and 
represents  such  a  connection  of  successive  states  of 
effective  causes  that  no  unity  of  experience  is  pos- 
sible with  it,"  is  sheer  extravagance.  It  is  a  purely 
abstract  and  fictitious  conception  of  what  freedom 
means.  The  same  is  to  be  said  of  the  further  utter- 
ance, that  freedom  is  a  deliverance  from  the  guidance 
of  all  rules,  and  that  nature  and  freedom  differ  like 
legality  and  lawlessness.  Now,  all  that  is  necessary 
for  experience  and  science  is  simply  a  certain  uni- 

192 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

formity  within  experience  itself.  This  uniformity  as 
such  is  altogether  independent  of  the  metaphysics  of 
its  possibility.  If  we  suppose  it  to  rest  on  necessity 
or  to  rest  upon  freedom,  science  and  experience  are 
equally  possible.  We  find  as  a  matter  of  fact  that 
there  are  certain  uniformities  of  experience,  and  sci- 
ence states  these  so  far  as  it  can,  and  by  means  of  the 
knowledge  thus  gained  seeks  to  control  life.  But,  as 
said,  the  question  of  freedom  or  necessity  is  entirely 
independent  of  this  uniformity.  Freedom  violates 
no  law  of  nature  and  no  law  of  mind.  The  believer  in 
freedom  would  be  as  good  a  psychologist  or  physicist 
as  the  believer  in  necessity.  It  is  only  as  we  pass 
from  this  practical  science  to  some  kind  of  basal  doc- 
trine which  regards  the  universe  as  something  abso- 
lutely determined  from  everlasting  to  everlasting, 
and  seeks  to  bind  all  events  together  in  one  scheme 
of  necessity,  that  any  difficulty  arises;  but  this  no- 
tion is  a  sheer  fiction  of  the  dogmatic  intelligence. 
We  do  not  know  the  world  to  be  any  such  scheme, 
and  Kant  himself  held  that  the  world  was  no  such 
scheme.  We  simply  know  that  there  are  certain  uni- 
formities on  which  we  can  practically  rely  for  the 
guidance  of  life  within  the  range  of  experience.  Any- 
thing beyond  this  is  dogmatic  assertion  or  some 
species  of  fate. 

Kant's  further  suggestion,  that  if  we  do  not  admit 
something  mathematically  the  first  in  the  world  with 
reference  to  time  there  is  no  necessity  for  admitting 
something  dynamically  the  first  with  reference  to 
causality,  is  equally  unsatisfactory.  In  this  argu- 
ment Kant  seems  to  have  no  difficulty  in  believing 

193 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

in  a  temporal  infinitude,  [against]  which  he  argues  in 
the  first  antinomy.  There  he  seemed  to  think  an  in- 
finite series  of  past  changes  altogether  impossible, 
but  here  he  proceeds  to  bring  up  this  argument 
against  what  he  calls  sophistical  conclusions  of  the 
doctrine  of  freedom,  and  argues  that  with  infinite 
past  time  there  might  well  have  been  an  infinite  se- 
ries of  changes.  In  this  Kant  is  not  only  inconsist- 
ent with  himself,  but  he  also  mistakes  the  doctrine  of 
causality.  On  the  first  point  there  is  implicit  here, 
though  Kant  does  not  seem  to  have  seen  it,  an  argu- 
ment for  the  ideality  of  time.  For  if  there  be  no  tem- 
poral first  there  is  likewise  no  temporal  second,  and 
the  whole  ordinal  system  of  time  becomes  purely  re- 
lative to  ourselves,  that  is,  to  experience;  but  in  the 
great  temporal  continuum  of  time  there  would  be 
neither  first  nor  second  nor  any  other  date.  On  the 
second  point,  the  misunderstanding  of  causality, 
Kant  proceeds  on  the  supposition  that  the  causality 
itself  is  through  the  temporal  series  and  that  the 
original  cause  must  be  sought  at  the  beginning  of 
that  series;  and  if  the  series  had  no  beginning,  then 
the  original  cause  cannot  be  found  at  all.  The  result 
of  this  fact  is  to  cancel  the  law  of  causality  altogether. 
In  truth,  the  cause  is  not  to  be  found  at  the  begin- 
ning any  more  than  at  any  successive  point  in  the 
causal  movement.  The  cause  in  its  dynamic  effi- 
ciency is  contemporaneous  with  its  effect,  and  any 
act  of  causation,  no  matter  how  many  previous  acts 
may  have  gone  before,  is  a  truly  dynamic  first.  Thus, 
if  we  were  considering  the  causality  in  the  produc- 
tion of  a  piece  of  music,  we  should  not  expect  to  find 

194 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

a  causality  in  the  first  notes  and  from  them  floating 
on  through  the  latter  notes.  We  should  rather  see 
that  each  note  is  specially  produced,  owing  its  pro- 
duction not  to  antecedent  notes  or  antecedent  events 
of  any  kind,  but  solely  to  the  causal  properties  present 
and  productive  through  the  series.  In  the  same  way, 
metaphysics  shows,  we  have  to  think  of  the  causality 
of  the  cosmos.  It  was  not  condensed  in  an  unattain- 
able first  moment,  since  [when]  it  has  done  nothing 
but  slide  along  the  temporal  groove.  It  is  rather  the 
continuous  productivity,  by  which  the  things  that 
were  and  the  things  that  are  alike  have  been  pro- 
duced ;  which  worked  and  works  and  will  work  for- 
evermore. 

As  to  Kant's  notion  that  the  denial  of  freedom 
would  help  us  in  this  matter,  nothing  can  well  be 
more  fictitious.  The  thing  that  would  be  fatal  would 
be  caprice  and  groundless  arbitrariness,  or  simply  an 
order  of  kaleidoscopic  change  in  the  ongoing  of  the 
world.  Now  necessity  secures  this  regularity  not  at  all 
in  its  character  of  necessity,  but  purely  and  only  be- 
cause the  necessity,  if  there  be  such,  is  shut  up  by  its 
nature  to  a  certain  order  of  movement  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  others;  but  we  have  no  insight  into  the 
necessity  supposed  to  rule  in  nature  that  will  assure 
us  that  the  present  order  will  continue  another  day. 
The  existing  order  is  compatible  with  change,  and 
how  much  change  is  involved  in  the  order  is  entirely 
beyond  us.  We  are  in  the  midst,  then,  of  a  changing 
world,  and  what  changes  the  future  may  bring  is 
something  that  only  a  crass  dogmatist  will  attempt 
to  decide.  So  far,  then,  as  a  ground  of  confidence  in 

195 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

the  natural  order  is  concerned,  we  certainly  have  far 
more  reason  for  trust  if  we  trace  this  order  to  the  uni- 
form administration  of  free  intelligence.  Such  intelli- 
gence can  choose  ends  to  be  reached  and  the  means 
for  reaching  them,  and  can  direct  itself  to  their  realiza- 
tion. It  is,  therefore,  in  the  highest  degree  mistaken 
to  declare  that  there  could  be  no  orderly  system  and 
no  unity  of  experience  if  we  grant  the  notion  of  free- 
dom. 

Kant's  solution  of  this  antinomy  consists  in  dis- 
tinguishing between  man  as  phenomenon  and  as  nou- 
menon.  Nature  in  general,  including  man  himself  as 
an  empirical  being,  is  subject  to  necessity,  but  beyond 
nature,  at  least  in  man,  is  a  realm  of  freedom  to  which 
the  law  of  causal  necessity  does  not  apply.  The  way 
in  which  Kant  puts  this  matter  is  very  far  from  satis- 
factory. And  the  thing  which  he  is  after  admits  of 
being  reached  in  a  much  simpler  way.  It  should  be 
noticed  first  of  all  that  we  have  here  a  departure  from 
Kant's  doctrine  of  the  categories  as  purely  subjective. 
He  breaks  through  his  subjectivity  and  affirms  a 
transcendental  causality  of  freedom  for  man  con- 
sidered as  noumenon,  that  is,  as  lying  beyond  the 
phenomenal  realm.  Of  course,  if  the  subjectivity  of 
the  categories  is  to  be  taken  strictly,  as  we  have  be- 
fore pointed  out,  this  introduces  a  hopeless  contradic- 
tion into  Kant's  system.  But  that  subjectivity  is  not 
to  be  taken  too  seriously.  Kant  proceeds  in  this  anti- 
nomy and  in  the  next  one  to  introduce  a  solution  of 
the  difficulty  by  bringing  in  a  transcendental  world 
where  freedom  and  the  unconditioned  reality  have 
their  seat. 

196 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

But  the  reconciliation  he  seeks  to  reach  is  possible 
in  a  much  simpler  way.  Nature  is  not  the  seat  of 
necessity  in  any  conceivable  sense,  because  necessity 
itself  is  only  a  negative  notion  without  any  positive 
contents.  It  cannot  be  found  in  experience  or  in  any 
way  demonstrated  in  the  outer  world.  There  are 
really  two  worlds  with  which  we  have  to  do.  First, 
the  space  and  time  world  of  phenomena,  and  second, 
the  invisible  power  world  where  phenomena  have 
their  cause  and  source.  Now,  nature  belongs  to  the 
former  world  altogether,  and  in  that  world  we  are 
seeking  not  for  necessity  but  simply  the  uniformities 
of  experience,  and  we  use  the  knowledge  of  these  uni- 
formities for  the  control  and  [practical  guidance]  of 
life.  This  is  the  field  of  science,  and  into  this  field  as 
such  freedom  does  not  enter.  We  simply  ask  for  the 
order  in  which  things  are  united  in  the  space  and  time 
world  in  an  order  of  law,  and  in  this  inquiry  we  are 
not  permitted  to  transcend  the  space  and  time  world 
at  all.  When  we  are  unable  to  connect  spatial  and 
temporal  events  according  to  a  scheme  of  law,  then 
we  must  simply  leave  the  events  as  something  com- 
mon and  something  which  we  cannot  further  classify 
or  relate  in  space  and  time  forms.  In  this  field  sci- 
ence has  absolute  right  of  way,  and  it  must  report  its 
findings  throughout  in  spatial  and  temporal  terms. 
For  this  field,  then,  we  should  accept  all  that  Kant 
says  about  the  unpermissibility  of  transcending  the 
spatial  and  temporal  order. 

But  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  noticed  that  this 
space  and  time  order  as  such  has  no  causality  in  it,  and 
no  direction  or  guidance.  And  this  again  carries  us 

197 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

over  into  the  power  world  and  the  world  of  meanings. 
When  we  have  found  the  uniformities  of  coexistence 
and  sequence  in  the  space  and  time  world,  the  ques- 
tion as  to  the  power  world  and  the  world  of  meanings 
remains  absolutely  untouched.  Where  now  shall  we 
look  for  the  causality  and  how  shall  we  define  the 
meaning  of  the  spatial  and  temporal  movement? 
This  question  applies  to  philosophy,  and  the  answer 
to  it  is  in  no  way  in  opposition  to  the  space  and  time 
world.  It  is  simply  and  only  an  interpretation  of  it, 
an  attempt  to  form  some  conception  of  what  the  space 
and  time  world  may  mean.  Now,  this  power  world, 
as  before  suggested,  does  not  lie  behind  the  space  and 
time  world  at  its  beginning,  but  rather  comprehends 
that  world  at  all  times  and  in  all  places,  being  the 
ever  present  ground  of  it.  And  when  we  come  to 
examine  the  notion  of  power  or  causality  from  this 
point  of  view,  it  turns  out  that  it  can  be  expressed 
only  in  terms  of  intelligent  and  volitional  activity. 
All  mechanical  causality  loses  itself  in  the  infinite 
regress  and  denies  causality  altogether.  The  only 
thing  that  really  meets  the  demand  for  causality  is 
the  conception  of  a  living,  active  intelligence  which  is 
imminent  in  all  its  deeds,  and  which  is  equally  present 
to  all  of  them,  to  the  last  as  well  as  the  first.  With 
this  understanding  we  see  the  Kantian  antinomy  dis- 
appearing. 

And  as  for  the  unity  of  experience  and  all  that,  it 
also  must  be  finally  found  in  the  unity  and  consistency 
of  reason  itself.  No  ground  for  it  can  be  discovered 
in  any  experience  of  nature.  No  necessity  for  it  can 
be  found  in  any  speculation.  Our  confidence  in  the 

193 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 


order  of  things  rests  at  last,  not  upon  any  demonstra- 
tion of  the  speculative  reason,  but  on  the  living  con- 
fidence of  the  mind  that  we  are  in  a  rational  world, 
the  continuous  deed  of  the  ever-living  will  upon 
which  all  things  depend,  and  which  in  its  rational 
character  can  be  trusted  to  maintain  harmony  and 
consistency  in  its  activities.  This  is  the  source  of 
what  we  call  the  uniformity  of  nature,  and  our  faith  in 
this  uniformity  is  at  bottom  essentially  of  an  ethical 
kind.  We  pass  now  to  the  fourth  antinomy. 

THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE    REASON 

FOURTH  CONFLICT  OF  THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  IDEAS 


Thesis 

There  exists  an  absolutely  neces- 
sary Being  belonging  to  the  world, 
either  as  a  part  or  as  a  cause  of  it. 

Proof 

The  world  of  sense,  as  the  sum 
total  of  all  phenomena,  contains 
a  series  of  changes  without  which 
even  the  representation  of  a  series 
of  time,  which  forms  the  condi- 
tion of  the  possibility  of  the  world 
of  sense,  would  not  be  given  us. 
But  every  change  has  its  condi- 
tion which  precedes  it  in  time,  and 
renders  it  necessary.  Now  every- 
thing that  is  given  as  conditional 
presupposes,  with  regard  to  its  ex- 
istence, a  complete  series  of  con- 
ditions, leading  up  to  that  which  is 
entirely  unconditioned,  and  alone 
absolutely  necessary.  Something 
absolutely  necessary,  therefore, 
must  exist,  if  there  exists  a  change 
as  its  consequence.  And  this  abso- 


Antithesis 

There  nowhere  exists  an  abso- 
lutely necessary  Being,  either 
within  or  without  the  world,  as  the 
cause  of  it. 

Proof 

If  we  supposed  that  the  world 
itself  is  a  necessary  being,  or  that 
a  necessary  being  exists  in  it, 
there  would  then  be  in  the  series 
of  changes  either  a  beginning,  un- 
conditionally necessary,  and  there- 
fore without  a  cause,  which  con- 
tradicts the  dynamical  law  of  the 
determination  of  all  phenomena 
in  time;  or  the  series  itself  would 
be  without  any  beginning,  and 
though  contingent  and  condi- 
tioned in  all  its  parts,  yet  entirely 
necessary  and  unconditioned  as  a 
whole.  This  would  be  self-contra- 
dictory, because  the  existence  of 
a  multitude  cannot  be  necessary  if 
no  single  part  of  it  possesses  ne- 
cessary existence. 


199 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 


lutely  necessary  belongs  itself  to 
the  world  of  sense.  For  if  we  sup- 
posed that  it  existed  outside  that 
world,  then  the  series  of  changes 
in  the  world  would  derive  its  ori- 
gin from  it,  while  the  necessary 
cause  itself  would  not  belong  to 
the  world  of  sense.  But  this  is  im- 
possible. For  as  the  beginning  of 
a  temporal  series  can  be  determ- 
ined only  by  that  which  precedes 
it  in  time,  it  follows  that  the  high- 
est condition  of  the  beginning  of  a 
series  of  changes  must  exist  in  the 
time  when  that  series  was  not  yet 
(because  the  beginning  is  an  exist- 
ence, preceded  by  a  time  in  which 
the  thing  which  begins  was  not 
yet).  Hence  the  causality  of  the 
necessary  cause  of  changes  and 
that  cause  itself  belong  to  time 
and  therefore  to  phenomena  (in 
which  alone  time,  as  their  form,  is 
possible), and  it  cannot,  therefore, 
be  conceived  as  separated  from  the 
world  of  sense,  as  the  sum  total 
of  all  phenomena.  It  follows, 
therefore,  that  something  abso- 
lutely necessary  is  contained  in  the 
world,  whether  it  be  the  whole  cos- 
mical  series  itself,  or  only  a  part 
of  it. 


If  we  supposed,  on  the  contrary, 
that  there  exists  an  absolutely  ne- 
cessary cause  of  the  world,  outside 
the  world,  then  that  cause,  as  the 
highest  member  in  the  series  of 
causes  of  cosmical  changes,  would 
begin  the  existence  of  the  latter 
and  their  series.  In  that  case, 
however,  that  cause  would  have 
to  begin  to  act,  and  its  causality 
would  belong  to  time,  and  there- 
fore to  the  sum  total  of  phe- 
nomena. It  would  belong  to  the 
world,  and  would  therefore  not  be 
outside  the  world,  which  is  con- 
trary to  our  supposition.  There- 
fore, neither  in  the  world,  nor 
outside  the  world  (yet  in  causal 
connection  with  it) ,  does  there  exist 
anywhere  an  absolutely  necessary 
Being. 

(Page  370.) 


Here  both  the  proof  and  the  disproof  are  very  un- 
satisfactory. To  begin  with,  it  is  by  no  means  clear 
what  a  necessary  being  would  mean.  The  common 
argument  on  this  subject  is  from  the  fact  of  condi- 
tioned being  to  unconditioned  being,  which  is  then 
decided  to  be  absolutely  necessary.  Only  half  of  this 
conclusion  is  valid.  If  there  be  conditioned  things, 
there  must  be  something  which  conditions  them,  and 

200 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

in  that  sense  the  thought  of  the  conditioned  implies 
the  thought  of  the  unconditioned.  But  when  we  next 
pass  to  declare  that  the  unconditioned  being  is  neces- 
sary, it  is  impossible  to  follow  the  conclusion  by  the 
way  of  logic  and  even  to  tell  what  the  conclusion 
really  means.  The  thing  which  is  necessary  in  the 
logic  is  the  affirmation  of  an  unconditioned  being,  but 
there  is  a  difference  between  the  necessity  of  an  affirm- 
ation and  the  affirmation  of  a  necessity.  Manifestly 
all  that  the  existence  of  given  facts  can  warrant  is  the 
affirmation  of  some  unconditioned  fact  on  which  they 
depend,  but  to  call  this  being  necessary  is  something 
which  logic  does  not  warrant,  neither  can  we  tell  what 
necessity  would  mean  in  the  case.  We  simply  come 
down  to  a  being  self-dependent  and  self-sufficient, 
that  is,  not  needing  any  other  being  for  its  existence 
or  for  its  conception. 

Kant  further  argues  that  this  absolutely  necessary 
being  belongs  itself  to  the  world  of  sense.  "For  if  we 
supposed  that  it  existed  outside  that  world,  then  the 
series  of  changes  in  the  world  would  derive  its  origin 
from  it,  while  the  necessary  cause  itself  would  not 
belong  to  the  world  of  sense.  But  this  is  impossible. 
For  as  the  beginning  of  a  temporal  series  can  be  de- 
termined only  by  that  which  precedes  it  in  time,  it 
follows  that  the  highest  condition  of  the  beginning  of 
a  series  of  changes  must  exist  in  the  time  when  that 
series  was  not  yet.  Hence,  the  causality  of  the  neces- 
sary cause  of  changes  and  that  cause  itself  belong 
to  time  and  therefore  to  phenomena,  and  it  cannot, 
therefore,  be  conceived  as  separated  from  the  world 
of  sense,  as  the  sum  total  of  all  phenomena."  But  this 

201 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

also  is  unsatisfactory.  The  distinction  we  have  just 
made  between  the  space  and  time  world  and  the  power 
world  forbids  us  to  find  this  unconditioned  being 
anywhere  in  the  space  and  time  world,  least  of  all  at 
the  beginning  of  a  temporal  series  which  it  precedes 
in  time.  The  unconditioned  existence  is  altogether 
independent  of  the  question  of  a  beginning  or  non- 
beginning  of  the  temporal  series,  and  the  only  pre- 
cedence we  can  certainly  affirm  is  a  logical  precedence. 
The  cause  logically  precedes  the  effect,  but  the  effect 
may  still  coexist  with  the  cause;  for  there  is  nothing 
whatever  in  the  conception  of  an  unconditioned  cause 
to  forbid  the  thought  that  it  may  have  always  been 
causal  and  therefore  coexistent  with  its  effects. 

The  proof  of  the  antithesis  is  no  more  satisfactory. 
It  says:  "If  we  supposed  that  the  world  itself  is  a 
necessar^being,  or  that  a  necessar^bring  existsjn  it, 
there  wouToTlhen  be  in  the  seriesjofdbanges_  either  a 
beginning,  unconditionally  necessary,  and  therefore 
without  a  cause,  which  contradicts  the  dynamical  law 
of  the  determination  of  all  phenomena  in  time;  or 
the  series  itself  would  be  without  any  beginning,  and 
though  contingent  and  conditioned  in  all  its  parts, 
yet  entirely  necessary  and  unconditioned  as  a  whole. 
This  would  be  self-contradictory,  because  the  exist- 
ence of  a  multitude  cannot  be  necessary  if  no  single 
part  of  it  possesses  necessary  existence." 

Here  we  have  the  assumption  that  free  activity  is 
causeless  and  contradicts  the  dynamic  law  of  the  de- 
termination of  all  phenomena  in  time.  This  assump- 
tion we  have  seen  to  be  false.  Free  activity  does 
not  deny  causality.  It  is  simply  activity  that  is  self- 

202 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

directed  toward  ends,  which  is  the  mark  of  all  intelli- 
gent causality.  It  is  then  extravagance,  and  indeed 
mere  assumption,  to  repeat  that  freedom  means  cause- 
lessness.  It  means  simply  and  only  the  causality  of  in- 
telligence directing  itself  toward  ends  which  lie  before. 
Kant  continues:  "If  we  supposed,  on  the  contrary, 
that  there  exists  an  absolutely  necessary  cause  of 
the  world,  outside  the  world,  then  that  cause,  as  the 
highest  member  in  the  series  of  causes  of  cosmical 
changes,  would  begin  the  existence  of  the  latter  and 
their  series.  In  that  case,  however,  that  cause  would 
have  to  begin  to  act,  and  its  causality  would  belong 
to  time,  and  therefore  to  the  sum  total  of  phenomena. 
It  would  belong  to  the  world,  and  would  therefore  not 
be  outside  the  world,  which  is  contrary  to  our  suppo- 
sition." 

Much  the  same  criticism  may  be  made  of  this  argu- 
ment as  of  the  preceding  one.  It  manifestly  rests  on 
the  supposition  of  the  reality  of  time  and  that  the 
unconditioned  cause  must  temporarily  precede  its 
effect.  If,  however,  the  precedence  is  logical  only  and 
the  cause  may  coexist  with  its  effects,  this  argument 
loses  its  force.  If  the  world  is  really  in  time,  then  the 
causality  of  the  unconditioned  being  must  also  be  in 
time,  as  otherwise  there  would  be  no  connection  be- 
tween cause  and  effect.  It  is  therefore  no  objection 
to  say  its  activity  must  begin  in  time.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  world  is  not  really  in  time,  but  only  seems 
so  to  us,  then  the  causality  of  the  unconditioned  being 
is  also  not  really  in  time,  and  objections  drawn  from 
the  temporality  of  the  world  need  not  be  considered. 

Kant  adds  some  observations  in  the  way  of 

203 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

strengthening  these  conclusions.  These  are:  "If,  how- 
ever, we  once  begin  our  proof  cosmologically,  tak- 
ing for  our  foundation  the  series  of  phenomena,  and 
the  regressus  in  it,  according  to  the  empirical  laws  of 
causality,  we  cannot  afterwards  suddenly  leave  this 
line  of  argument  and  pass  over  to  something  which 
does  not  belong  as  a  member  to  this  series.  For  the 
condition  must  be  taken  in  the  same  meaning  in  which 
the  relation  of  the  condition  to  that  condition  was 
taken  in  the  series  which,  by  continuous  progress,  was 
to  lead  to  that  highest  condition.  If,  therefore,  that 
relation  is  sensuous  and  intended  for  a  possible  empiri- 
cal use  of  the  understanding,  the  highest  condition  or 
cause  can  close  the  regressus  according  to  the  laws 
of  sensibility  only,  and  therefore  as  belonging  to  that 
temporal  series  itself.  The  necessary  Being  must 
therefore  be  regarded  as  the  highest  member  of  the 
cosmical  series."  (Page  374.)  All  that  this  means  is 
that  by  mere  temporal  realities  we  [cannot  reach  the 
unconditioned],  but  when  it  comes  to  causality,  it  is 
equally  true  that  the  infinite  regress  denies  causality 
altogether. 

Kant  finds  the  solution  of  this  antinomy  also  in  his 
doctrine  of  phenomenalism.  So  far  as  experience  of 
phenomena  goes  we  have  simply  conditioned  things 
and  events.  Thus,  "All  things  of  the  world  of  sense 
might  be  entirely  contingent,  and  have  therefore  an 
empirically  conditioned  existence  only";  and  yet  he 
says,  "There  might  nevertheless  be  a  non-empirical 
condition  of  the  whole  series,  that  is,  an  uncondition- 
ally necessary  being.  For  this,  as  an  intelligible  con- 
dition, would  not  belong  to  the  series  as  a  link  of  it 

204 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

(not  even  as  the  highest  link),  nor  would  it  render 
any  link  of  that  series  empirically  unconditioned,  but 
would  leave  the  whole  world  of  sense,  in  all  its  mem- 
bers, in  its  empirically  conditioned  existence.  This 
manner  of  admitting  an  unconditioned  existence  as 
the  ground  of  phenomena  would  differ  from  the  em- 
pirically unconditioned  causality  (freedom),  treated 
of  in  the  preceding  article,  because,  with  respect  to 
freedom,  the  thing  itself,  as  cause,  belonged  to  the 
series  of  conditions,  and  its  causality  only  was  repre- 
sented as  intelligible,  while  here,  on  the  contrary,  the 
necessary  being  has  to  be  conceived  as  lying  outside 
the  series  of  the  world  of  sense,  and  as  purely  in- 
telligible, by  which  alone  it  could  be  guarded  against 
itself  becoming  subject  to  the  law  of  contingency  and 
dependence  applying  to  all  phenomena."  (Page  453.) 
"What  is  shown  by  this  is  simply  this,  that  the  com- 
plete contingency  of  all  things  in  nature  and  of  all 
their  (empirical)  conditions,  may  well  coexist  with  the 
arbitrary  presupposition  of  a  necessary,  though  purely 
intelligible  condition,  and  that,  as  there  is  no  real  con- 
tradiction between  these  two  views,  they  may  well 
both  be  true.  .  .  .  The  world  of  sense  contains  no- 
thing but  phenomena,  and  these  are  mere  represent- 
ations which  are  always  sensuously  conditioned.  As 
our  objects  are  never  things  by  themselves,  we  need 
not  be  surprised  that  we  are  never  justified  in  mak- 
ing a  jump  from  any  member  of  the  several  empirical 
series,  beyond  the  connection  of  sensibility,  as  if  they 
were  things  by  themselves,  existing  apart  from  their 
transcendental  ground,  and  which  we  might  leave  be- 
hind in  order  to  seek  for  the  cause  of  their  existence  out- 

205 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

side  them.  ...  To  conceive,  however,  an  intelligible 
ground  of  phenomena,  that  is,  of  the  world  of  sense, 
and  to  conceive  it  as  freed  from  the  contingency  of 
the  latter,  does  not  run  counter  either  to  the  unlimited 
empirical  regressus  in  the  series  of  phenomena,  nor  to 
their  general  contingency.  And  this  is  really  the  only 
thing  which  we  had  to  do  in  order  to  remove  this 
apparent  antinomy,  and  which  could  be  done  in  this 
wise  only."  (Page  455.)  "The  empirical  use  of  rea- 
son is  not  affected  by  the  admission  of  a  purely  intelli- 
gible being,  but  ascends,  according  to  the  principle 
of  a  general  contingency,  from  empirical  conditions 
to  higher  ones,  which  again  are  empirical.  This  regu- 
lative principle,  however,  does  not  exclude  the  admis- 
sion of  an  intelligible  cause  not  comprehended  in  the 
series,  when  we  come  to  the  pure  use  of  reason  (with 
reference  to  ends  or  aims).  For  in  this  case  an  intelli- 
gible cause  only  means  the  transcendental,  and,  to  us, 
unknown  ground  of  the  possibility  of  the  sensuous 
series  in  general,  and  the  existence  of  this,  independent 
of  all  conditions  of  the  sensuous  series,  and,  in  refer- 
ence to  it,  unconditionally,  necessary,  is  by  no  means 
opposed  to  the  unlimited  contingency  of  the  former, 
nor  to  the  never-ending  regressus  in  the  series  of 
empirical  conditions."  (Page  456.) 

Here  again  we  see  Kant  departing  from  the  strict 
subjectivity  of  the  categories.  Even  if  we  grant  that 
we  cannot  in  strictness  affirm  that  such  unconditioned 
being  could  be  demonstrated  to  exist,  the  possibility 
of  its  existence  is  not  merely  allowed,  but  the  exist- 
ence of  the  being  itself  is  admitted.  Of  course  if  the 
categories  of  thought  did  not  apply  to  it  in  any  sense 

206 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

which  is  conceivable,  the  admission  would  be  entirely 
empty,  for  that  of  whose  nature  we  can  form  no  con- 
ception whatever  is  for  us  strictly  nothing.  We  are, 
then,  passing  here  from  the  strict  denial  which  Kant's 
subjectivism  would  imply  to  a  position  of  faith,  and 
affirming  for  practical  reasons  the  existence  of  some- 
thing which  speculatively  we  cannot  demonstrate. 
Undoubtedly,  as  said  before,  if  we  should  proceed  by 
rigorous  logic,  this  involves  contradiction  on  Kant's 
part;  but  when  we  consider  the  general  drift  of  his 
thought  and  also  remember  the  moral  aim  of  his  sys- 
tem, we  must  interpret  his  subjectivism  in  harmony 
with  these  assumptions  rather  than  rule  out  these 
assumptions  as  an  [unconscious]  yielding  to  popular 
religious  faith.  The  latter  view  has  been  held  by 
many  critics,  but  Kant  would  not  seem  to  have  been 
a  man  lacking  in  courage  or  candor,  and  therefore 
we  must  relax  the  subjectivity  and  retain  the  belief 
in  those  things  the  existence  of  which  could  not  be 
demonstrated. 

This  brings  us  to  consider  the  final  section  of  the 
transcendental  dialectic,  which  he  discusses  under  the 
head  of  the  ideal  of  pure  reason.  This  section  con- 
cerns itself  with  the  arguments  for  the  existence  of 
God,  and  the  conclusion  is  drawn  that  from  a  purely 
speculative  standpoint  the  conception  of  God  repre- 
sents an  Ideal  of  Reason  rather  than  something  that 
can  be  strictly  demonstrated.  The  arguments  care- 
fully considered  turn  out  to  fall  short  of  demonstra- 
tion. 

In  this  general  conclusion  everybody  would  agree 
nowadays.  Matters  of  fact  do  not  admit  of  demon- 

207 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

stration  in  any  case.  Demonstration  attaches  only  to 
the  formal  sciences  like  mathematics,  which  deal  with 
the  relation  of  ideas.  Whenever  we  come  to  con- 
sider concrete  reality  there  is  always  an  element  of 
assumption  in  any  so-called  demonstration.  Nowa- 
days in  dealing  with  the  arguments  for  the  existence  of 
God  we  should  generally  treat  them,  not  as  the  dem- 
onstrations of  a  theorem,  but  rather  as  the  solution  of 
a  problem  which  our  experience  of  the  world  and  life 
presents.  When  we  consider  the  order  of  the  world, 
its  rational  character,  the  way  in  which  things  work 
together  in  the  organic  world  apparently  for  the  pro- 
duction of  ends,  the  nature  of  human  history  also  and 
its  gradual  progress,  we  find  in  these  facts  a  problem 
for  which  our  reason  demands  a  solution,  and  the  theis- 
tic  solution  is  the  only  one  that  gives  our  mind  any  in- 
sight or  satisfaction.  This  is  what  we  call  the  proof  of 
the  Divine  Existence.  It  does  not  claim  to  be  a  demon- 
stration, but  it  does  furnish  the  only  solution  of  the 
world  problem  in  which  the  mind  can  rest.  In  Kant's 
time  these  proofs  were  more  highly  estimated  than 
they  are  to-day.  They  were  considered  to  be  demon- 
strations, and  there  was  the  further  thought  that  if 
the  demonstration  were  not  rigorous,  faith  itself  was 
likely  to  be  overthrown.  Hence,  when  Kant  proceeded 
to  show  that  the  arguments  are  not  demonstrations, 
many  persons  found  this  an  exceedingly  dangerous 
performance  and  felt  that  the  foundations  were  being 
taken  away.  Probably  every  practiced  thinker  to-day 
would  admit  Kant's  conclusions  in  advance,  and  we 
have  become  so  used  to  recognizing  the  practical  and 
volitional  basis  of  most  of  our  beliefs  that  no  one 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

would  be  at  present  disturbed  by  anything  that  Kant 
has  said.  Thought  has  become  pragmatic,  especially 
in  ethical  and  religious  fields,  and  we  are  very  little 
concerned  at  speculative  inadequacy,  provided  a  doc- 
trine works  well  in  practice  and  enriches  and  furthers 
life. 

Kant  groups  the  arguments  for  the  being  of  God  in 
three  classes, — the  ontological,  the  cosmological,  and 
what  he  calls  the  physico-theological,  that  is,  the  de- 
sign argument.  In  the  first  argument  the  inference  is 
from  our  conception  of  the  perfect  Being  to  the  exist- 
ence of  that  Being.  In  the  second  argument  we  infer 
from  the  contingency  of  the  order  of  the  world  the  ex- 
istence of  a  necessary  being  on  whom  it  depends.  In 
the  third  argument  we  infer,  from  the  evidences  of  de- 
sign in  the  world  about  us,  the  existence  of  an  intelli- 
gent Creator.  Now  none  of  these  arguments,  Kant 
says,  can  be  looked  upon  as  really  demonstrative. 
First  of  all,  the  ontological  argument  is  entirely  with- 
out logical  cogency.  In  its  common  form  it  rests  upon 
the  idea  of  the  perfect  Being.  The  idea  of  the  perfect 
necessarily  includes  the  idea  of  existence  and  would  be 
a  contradiction  without  it;  for  if  we  should  form  a 
conception  of  a  perfect  Being  that  had  only  conceptual 
existence,  and  should  then  affirm  the  conception  of 
another  perfect  Being  that  really  existed,  it  is  mani- 
fest that  the  latter  being  would  be  far  superior  to  the 
former,  hence  the  former  would  not  really  have  been 
perfect.  Thus  the  thought  of  the  perfect  Being  in- 
cludes the  thought  of  its  existence,  and  hence  it  has 
been  inferred  that  the  perfect  exists;  but  there  is 
not  the  shadow  of  cogency  in  this  reasoning.  It  only 

209 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

points  out  that  the  idea  of  the  perfect  must  include 
the  idea  of  existence  in  order  to  make  it  consistent  with 
itself,  but  it  by  no  means  follows  that  the  self-consist- 
ent idea  represents  a  real  existence.  As  Kant  said,  the 
thought  of  a  hundred  thalers  contains  logically  all  the 
meaning  of  a  hundred  real  thalers,  but  there  is  never- 
theless a  great  difference  in  point  of  fact  between 
them.  Descartes  sought  to  supplement  the  argument 
by  showing  that  only  the  perfect  can  be  the  source  of 
the  idea,  but  this  does  not  mend  the  matter.  It  made 
the  idea  really  an  effect  in  us,  and  concluded  from  this 
effect  to  an  adequate  cause  by  the  principle  that  only 
the  perfect  could  produce  an  idea  of  the  perfect;  but 
in  this  form  it  would  be  hard  to  find  any  force  in  the 
reasoning,  and  we  can  only  say  with  Kant  that  the 
perfect  represents  primarily  an  ideal  of  the  human 
mind  and  no  fact  of  human  experience.  Neither  is  it 
anything  that  can  be  proved  or  be  demonstrated  by 
the  facts  of  human  experience.  The  argument  is  really 
nothing  but  the  expression  of  the  aesthetic  and  ethi- 
cal conviction  that  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the 
good,  which  alone  have  value  in  the  universe,  cannot 
be  foreign  to  the  universe.  The  ontological  argument 
owes  all  its  force  to  this  immediate  faith  of  reason 
in  its  own  ideals.  Its  technical  expression  is  due  to 
the  desire  to  give  this  faith  [the  form  of]  demon- 
stration. The  result  is  to  weaken  rather  than  to 
strengthen  it. 

And  yet  this  argument,  as  Kant  points  out,  gives 
all  their  value  to  the  other  theistic  arguments.  The 
cosmological  argument  concludes  from  the  conting- 
ency of  the  world  to  us  to  an  unconditioned  and 

210 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

absolute  cause.  But  this  is  very  far  from  giving  us  a 
conception  of  God  which  would  have  any  moral  or  re- 
ligious value.  There  is  no  possibility  of  equating  the 
notion  of  God  with  the  notion  of  the  unconditioned 
being;  and  when,  then,  we  ask  how  we  pass  from  the 
faith  in  a  first  cause  or  unconditioned  being  to  the 
perfect  ideal  which  transforms  this  non -religious  spec- 
ulative abstraction  into  the  idea  of  God,  the  answer 
must  be,  it  is  just  the  presence  of  that  ideal  of  the  per- 
fect Being  immanent  in  the  mind  which  makes  the 
transition.  And  the  same  is  to  be  said  of  the  design 
argument.  If  we  should  take  this  in  logical  strictness 
and  proceed  with  fidelity  to  the  canons  of  inductive 
science,  we  should  at  best  not  be  able  to  affirm  any- 
thing more  than  a  being  adequate  to  the  production 
of  the  rather  commonplace  world  of  experience,  but 
this  world  is  very  far  from  being  perfectly  transpar- 
ent in  its  wisdom  or  goodness.  A  purely  inductive 
attitude  [of  mind]  which  would  take  account  of  all 
the  phases  of  apparent  evil  and  meaninglessness,  and 
strike  the  average  between  the  good  and  the  evil,  the 
wisdom  and  unwisdom  in  life,  would  find  itself  very 
far  from  the  faith  in  God  which  the  perfect  religion 
demands.  Here  again,  if  we  ask,  How  do  we  pass 
from  these  finite  and  conflicting  data  to  the  concep- 
tion of  a  perfect  Being,  supreme  in  reason,  righteous- 
ness, and  goodness?  the  answer  must  be  that  we  pass 
by  the  ideal  of  the  perfect  implicit  in  the  human  mind. 
So  then,  logically,  we  are  in  this  condition,  the  onto- 
logical  argument  is  itself  inadequate,  but  the  other 
two  arguments  get  their  force  from  it  and  hence  they 
share  in  its  inadequacy;  and  hence  we  must  say  that 

211 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  KANT 

so  far  as  demonstration  in  this  field  is  concerned  no 
demonstration  is  possible. 

However,  we  need  not  be  too  much  disturbed  at 
this,  for  equally  no  disproof  is  possible.  The  various 
arguments  for  atheism  are  readily  seen  in  their  super- 
ficiality upon  very  brief  critical  reflection.  The  real 
conclusion  is  that  by  way  of  pure  speculation  we 
cannot  attain  to  certain  conviction  in  this  matter. 
Conviction  must  be  reached  in  life  itself,  and  this  has 
always  with  scantiest  exception  led  the  race  to  the- 
istic  faith,  not  indeed  as  something  which  can  be  spec- 
ulatively  demonstrated  or  against  which  any  cavil  or 
objection  is  impossible,  but  something  which  repre- 
sents the  line  of  least  resistance  for  human  thought. 
The  intelligent  world  points  to  an  intelligent  author, 
the  moral  world  to  a  moral  author,  the  rational  world 
to  a  rational  author.  This  is  the  conclusion  which  the 
race  has  drawn  and  the  conclusion  in  which  it  increas- 
ingly rests,  the  conclusion  which  it  holds  with  more 
and  more  confidence  as  the  ground  of  all  its  hope  and 
the  security  of  all  its  efforts,  whether  in  the  field  of 
science  and  cognition  or  of  morality  and  religion. 

In  this  general  result  we  have  the  original  source  of 
pragmatism,  so  far  as  it  has  an  intellectual  root.  Ac- 
cording to  Kant  man  is  not  merely  intellect.  He  is 
also  will  and  conscience  and  he  is  religious,  and  these 
facts  also  have  to  be  taken  into  account  in  consider- 
ing our  human  life.  The  intellect,  considered  by  itself 
as  a  purely  speculative  faculty,  is  not  contradictory, 
but  it  is  limited,  and  it  is  not  able  to  reach  a  great 
many  of  those  truths  in  which  nevertheless  we  stead- 
fastly believe.  But  while  it  cannot  positively  reach 

212 


THE  ANTINOMY  OF  PURE  REASON 

them,  it  can  overturn  the  arguments  against  them,  and 
thus,  as  Kant  said,  it  may  at  once  destroy  knowledge 
and  make  room  for  rational  belief.  Now,  assuming 
the  legitimacy  of  life  and  of  our  human  instincts,  we 
may  ask  ourselves  what  life  implicitly  implies;  and 
Kant  says  it  implies  God,  freedom,  and  immortality, 
as  postulates  without  which  the  mind  would  fall  into 
discord  with  itself  and  life  would  lose  itself  in  inner 
contradiction.  We  may,  then,  hold  these  postulates, 
not  as  something  given  by  the  speculative  reason,  but 
as  something  rooted  in  life;  and  then  we  may  work 
them  out  into  the  great  and  ever-growing  conquest  of 
science  and  into  the  progress  of  humanity  in  civiliza- 
tion and  morals  and  religion. 


PART  II 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF 
SPENCER 


INTRODUCTION 

MR.  SPENCER'S  philosophy  had  great  vogue  in  the 
generation  just  passed.  Mr.  Spencer  himself  was 
called,  by  some  of  his  more  devoted  disciples,  the 
"Modern  Aristotle";  and  his  teachings  became  a  kind 
of  orthodoxy  for  naturalistic  science,  which  if  any  man 
kept  not  whole  and  entire,  he  was  a  candidate  for  the 
outer  darkness.  All  this  has  changed.  Mr.  Spencer 
has  little  standing  to-day  with  trained  philosophers, 
although  he  has  still  a  large  following  among  hearsay 
speculators  of  the  cruder  sort.  For  the  philosophical 
student,  however,  there  is  an  interest  in  the  study 
of  the  system,  as  it  sums  up  so  many  of  the  princi- 
ples and  doctrines  of  the  now  decadent  mechanical 
naturalism. 

For  the  popularity  of  the  philosophy  there  were 
several  leading  reasons.  First,  it  had  an  air  of  concili- 
ation. It  seemed  to  make  a  place  for  views  which  had 
hitherto  been  regarded  as  contradictory.  Mr.  Spencer 
says,  As  there  is  a  soul  of  good  in  things  evil,  so  there 
is  also  a  soul  of  truth  in  things  erroneous.  He  set  him- 
self, therefore,  to  seek  out  the  good,  even  in  opposing 
views,  in  the  hope  of  uniting  them  in  some  higher 
insight.  This  appeared  especially  in  his  treatment  of 

217 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

religion  and  philosophy.  It  had  been  quite  common  to 
regard  religion  as  baseless,  a  manifest  product  of  ignor- 
ance and  superstition,  and  something  to  be  uncondi- 
tionally cast  out.  But  Mr.  Spencer,  on  the  contrary, 
set  forth  that  it  is  quite  impossible  to  say  that  so  uni- 
versal and  potent  a  factor  in  human  life  as  religion  has 
been,  can  be  regarded  as  totally  baseless.  Accordingly 
he  maintained  that  religion  must  be  allowed  a  place 
in  human  life.  This  was  a  relief  from  the  open  denial 
of  many  previous  thinkers  of  the  positivistic  type, 
and  for  a  time  many  religious  people  looked  upon  Mr. 
Spencer's  system  as  a  kind  of  ally  of  religion.  Pro- 
tests, indeed,  were  not  wanting  from  the  more  clear- 
sighted religious  thinkers,  but  they  were  shrewdly 
suspected  of  the  odium  theologicum.  Science,  the 
beautiful  but  rather  scornful  young  heathen,  was  not, 
indeed,  to  be  baptized,  but  she  was  to  be  instructed 
that  religion  also  has  inalienable  rights.  Only  re- 
cently a  work  of  some  pretensions  has  been  published 
by  a  conservative  house,  in  which  a  theologian  main- 
tains that  Spencer's  philosophy,  with  slight  modifica- 
tions, is  the  truly  religious  one. 

Again,  in  the  philosophical  field  there  was  an  out- 
standing debate  between  the  empirical  and  the  ra- 
tional schools,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  way  of 
reconciliation.  The  rationalist  held  that,  while  all 
knowledge  is  through  experience,  not  all  knowledge 
is  from  experience,  but  depends  to  some  extent  upon 
the  nature  of  the  mind  itself,  which  nature  is  not  a 
product  of  experience,  but  rather  its  presupposition, 
that  which  the  mind  brings  with  it  to  make  experience 
possible.  The  empiricist,  on  the  other  hand,  had  held 

218 


INTRODUCTION 

that  the  mind  with  all  its  furniture  is  the  outcome  of 
experience.  But  this  experience  was  supposed  to  be 
the  experience  of  the  individual,  and  the  philosophers 
of  this  school  were  much  at  a  loss  to  furnish  a  young 
child  with  a  full  set  of  mental  faculties  in  the  few 
years  of  childhood.  On  this  account  the  doctrine  was 
in  a  somewhat  bad  way.  Sir  William  Hamilton  and 
Dr.  Whewell  and  others  had  so  belabored  it  that  the 
view  was  about  going  into  the  hands  of  a  receiver, 
when  Mr.  Spencer  appeared  with  the  saving  proposi- 
tion that  the  rational  view  is  correct  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  individual,  while  the  empirical  view  is  cor- 
rect from  the  standpoint  of  the  race.  There  are,  he 
says,  a  great  many  things  in  the  experience  of  the  in- 
dividual of  to-day  which  cannot  be  explained  by  his 
own  scanty  experience.  The  facts  of  mental  heredity 
in  themselves  make  such  a  supposition  impossible. 
But  that  which  the  experience  of  the  individual  can- 
not do,  the  experience  of  the  race  may  do;  and  hence 
we  have  only  to  substitute  a  race  experience  for  that 
of  the  individual,  to  unite  the  two  schools  in  one. 

These  are  illustrations  of  the  reconciling  and  com- 
prehensive character  of  Mr.  Spencer's  philosophy  as 
it  seemed  when  it  first  appeared.  The  value  of  these 
reconciliations  will  be  discussed  later  on. 

But  the  leading  ground  for  the  popularity  of  Mr. 
Spencer's  philosophy  is  found  in  its  relation  to  physi- 
cal science.  The  last  generation  witnessed  an  enor- 
mous growth  in  the  scientific  field;  great  discoveries 
were  made,  vast  and  far-reaching  generalizations  were 
reached,  like  those  of  the  correlation  of  forces,  the 
conservation  of  energy,  the  evolution  of  species,  and 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

finally  the  extension  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution  to 
the  entire  cosmos  itself.  Spencer's  view  fell  in  with 
this  movement  very  happily  and  was  quite  a  promi- 
nent factor  in  it.  It  spoke  the  language  of  science 
and  acquired  some  of  its  prestige.  In  this  way  Spen- 
cer almost  became  the  official  philosopher  of  the  sci- 
entific world,  and  in  his  great  formula  of  evolution  he 
sought  to  give  a  comprehensive  interpretation  to  the 
whole  cosmic  movement  in  its  organic  and  inorganic 
forms,  and  also  in  mind  and  society  and  history. 

On  all  these  accounts  the  system  had  for  a  time 
great  popularity.  It  impressed  by  its  size  and  ap- 
parent completeness.  It  was  more  than  human  and 
terrestrial  in  its  sweep;  it  was  cosmic  and  universal. 
This  grandiosity  agreed  with  the  temper  of  the  time 
and  was  an  additional  attraction.  In  the  self-confi- 
dence and  the  historical  and  critical  ignorance  of  the 
time,  all  things  were  supposed  to  have  been  made 
new,  and  the  last  word  in  philosophy  had  been  spoken. 
The  "Synthetic  Philosophy"  had  come. 

Otrr-aim-4fi--these  lectures  is  to  consider  the  philoso- 
phical and  logical  basis  of  the  system.  Of  course,  in 
so  extensive  a  scheme  by  so  able  a  man  as  Spencer  we 
should  expect  to  find  a  great  deal  of  value  in  the  way 
of  detached  observations  and  special  reflections,  etc. ; 
and  all  of  this  would  be  compatible  with  essential 
weakness  in  the  basal  ideas  and  the  systematic  con- 
struction. Locke's  philosophy  is  incredibly  inconsist- 
ent, but  his  great  "Essay"  is  a  storehouse  of  val- 
uable material.  Spencer's  philosophy  may  be  found 
equally  wanting,  but  his  works  may  still  point  to  a 
master  mind  as  their  author.  A  system,  however, 

220 


INTRODUCTION 

depends  only  on  its  logic.  An  incoherent  system  is 
none.  In  the  history  of  philosophy  nothing  abides 
but  those  ideas  which  are  established  in  the  nature  of 
reason  itself.  All  other  things,  sooner  or  later,  go  to 
pieces,  serving  possibly  as  the  raw  material  for  later 
construction,  but  really  amounting  to  little  in  the 
great  thought  movement  whereby  reason  seeks  to 
master  itself  and  its  experience. 

Mr.  Spencer's  system  is  set  forth  in  a  large  num- 
ber of  volumes:  "First  Principles,"  one  volume; 
"Principles  of  Biology,"  two  volumes;  "Principles 
of  Psychology,"  two  volumes;  "Principles  of  Socio- 
logy," four  volumes;  and  several  works  on  Ethics.  Of 
these,  the  "First  Principles"  and  the  "Principles 
of  Psychology"  contain  the  gist  of  his  philosophy 
and  are  the  works  we  purpose  to  consider.  The 
others  have  nothing  of  marked  speculative  import- 
ance. The  discussion  will  deal  in  order  with  Mr. 
Spencer's  "Agnosticism,"  his  "Doctrine  of  Science," 
his  "Definition  of  Evolution,"  his  "Doctrine  of  Life 
and  Mind,"  and  his  "Empirical  Theory  of  Know- 
ledge." If  we  master  his  teaching  on  these  points  we 
shall  be  in  a  position  to  estimate  the  philosophic  value 
of  the  system,  y/i/ 

The  first  three  points  are  treated  in  the  volume  on 
"First  Principles."  This  work  has  been  run  through 
six  editions.  The  first  edition  differs  considerably 
from  the  later  ones,  but  only  in  matters  of  detail.  It 
is  interesting  to  compare  it  with  the  later  works,  and 
especially  with  the  last  edition,  as  showing  the  changes 
Mr.  Spencer  made,  partly  as  the  result  of  his  own  re- 
flection and  partly  as  the  result  of  criticism,  but  they 

221 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

reveal  no  essential  change  in  the  point  of  view  and  in 
the  general  argument.  The  matter  is  redistributed, 
the  exposition  is  condensed,  some  illustrations  are 
omitted  and  others  introduced,  but  no  essential 
change  is  made.  (Unless  otier^wis 
tations  willJba_fcom the  last  edition. 


I 

MR.  SPENCER'S  AGNOSTICISM 

THIS  feature  of  Mr.  Spencer's  philosophy  is  set 
forth  in  "First  Principles."  This  book  falls  into  two 
parts,  one  section  entitled  "The  Unknowable,"  and 
one  entitled  "  The  Knowable."  The  former  contains 
both  a  theory  of  knowledge  and  a  doctrine  of  religion. 
The  latter,  which  is  much  the  larger,  contains  his  doc- 
trine of  science  and  his  general  theory  of  evolution. 
The  first  section  expounds  his  Agnosticism. 

Mr.  Spencer's  Agnosticism  is  largely  a  borrowed 
product.  In  the  original  "Prospectus  for  the  Publi- 
cation of  a  New  System  of  Philosophy,"  he  speaks 
of  "Part  I,  The  Unknowable,"  as  "carrying  a  step 
farther  the  doctrine  put  into  shape  by  Hamilton  and 
Mansel;  pointing  out  the  various  directions  in  which 
Science  leads  to  the  same  conclusions;  and  showing 
that  in  this  united  belief  in  an  Absolute  that  tran- 
scends not  only  human  knowledge,  but  human  con- 
ception, lies  the  only  possible  reconciliation  of  Science 
and  Religion."  Mr.  Spencer  adds  some  arguments 
of  his  own,  but  the  larger  part  of  his  discussion  is 
based  upon  arguments  quoted  from  the  authors 
named.  They  are  the  immediate  sources  of  his  doc- 
trine; but  in  its  general  character  it  finds  its  roots 
in  the  Kantian  philosophy,  of  which,  however,  Mr. 
Spencer  seems  to  have  had  little  if  any  direct  know- 
ledge and  not  much  knowledge  of  any  kind.  The 

eea 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

doctrine  of  Phenomenalism,  which  appears  here  and 
there  in  his  theory,  ol  course,  runs  back  to  Kant, 
possibly  through  Comte. 

The  doctrine  itself  is  vaguely  conceived,  and  is 
hardly  defined  at  all,  except  in  conclusions  from  argu- 
ments. The  claim  in  general  is  that  we  have  no  pro- 
per knowledge  of  essential  reality;  that  in  both  re- 
ligion and  science  we  are  unable  to  reach  the  truly 
real,  and  must  content  ourselves  with  the  knowledge 
of  appearance  or  phenomena.  There  is,  however,  a 
fundamental  reality  back  of  all  appearance  which  we 
must  affirm,  though  we  cannot  know  it,  as  it  tran- 
scends all  knowledge  and  even  all  conception.  Here, 
then,  is  a  realm  of  mystery,  and  in  this  realm  relig- 
ion has  its  seat.  But  the  world  of  phenomena,  that 
is,  the  world  of  daily  experience,  is  open  to  us,  and 
its  coexistences  and  sequences  are  open  to  observa- 
tion, discovery,  and  registration.  This  is  the  field  of 
science. 

How  much  this  doctrine  needs  in  order  to  bring  it 
out  in  clearness  and  firmly  to  establish  it  is  plain  to 
the  practiced  reader.  But  this  matter  will  come  up 
farther  on.  We  shall  do  better  to  begin  with  Mr. 
Spencer's  arguments  and  work  our  way  into  his  doc- 
trine from  this  point. 

The  argument  in  brief  outline  is  this:  Mr.  Spencer 
examines  our  fundamental  ideas  in  both  religion  and 
science  and  declares  them  to  be  impossible  because 
contradictory  and  self-destructive.  Thus  the  con- 
tents of  knowledge  vanish.  He  next  examines  the 
process  of  knowledge,  in  a  chapter  called  "The  Re- 
lativity of  all  Knowledge,"  and  here  he  claims  to  find 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 

that  the  knowing  process  upon  critical  investigation 
shows  itself  to  be  incapable  of  absolute  knowledge. 
\Ye  are  then  shut  up  by  this  fact  to  the  field  of  the 
relative  or  the  apparent,  and  can  lay  no  claim  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  truly  real.  Such  is  the  agnostic 
argument  in  outline. 

The  two  parts  of  this  argument  do  not  seem  to  be 
perfectly  consistent.  If  the  first  contention,  that  our 
fundamental  ideas  are  self-destructive,  could  be  made 
out,  the  result  would  be  overwhelming  skepticism  which 
would  swallow  up,  not  merely  absolute  knowledge,  but 
phenomenal  knowledge  as  well.  If,  then,  we  regard 
the  first  contention  as  established,  the  second  claim 
would  be  disposed  of  in  advance.  No  system  of  phe-  , 
nomenal  knowledge  can  be  based  on  a  doctrine  of  * 
general  skepticism.  It  presupposes  some  real  know- 
ledge and  some  rational  insight  whereby  the  reason 
is  able  to  discern  and  fix  its  own  limits,  and  that  in 
such  a  way  as  not  to  cast  any  general  discredit  upon 
its  own  operations;  otherwise,  as  said,  the  outcome 
is  universal  skepticism  and  no  doctrine  of  knowledge 
at  all.  As  Kant  did  not  sufficiently  consider  this  pro- 
blem, Mr.  Spencer  also  failed  to  give  it  attention,  — 
in  fact,  he  cannot  be  said  to  have  considered  it  at  all. 
But  we  leave  these  general  remarks  and  proceed  to 
Mr.  Spencer's  specific  arguments. 

Ultimate  Religious  Ideas 

Mr.  Spencer  opens  the  discussion  of  religious  ideas 
by  some  remarks  on  what  he  calls  "symbolic  know- 
ledge" or  "symbolic  conceptions."  Most  things,  he 
says,  are  not  truly  conceived  in  themselves,  but  only 

225 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

through  conceptions  which  we  form  of  them  and 
which  are  a  kind  of  shorthand  expression  for  the  fact, 
rather  than  any  true  apprehension  of  it.  In  this  re- 
spect they  are  somewhat  like  the  symbols  of  alge- 
bra, which  stand  for  things  without,  however,  truly 
reproducing  the  nature  of  the  things  in  any  way. 
He  concludes  from  these  considerations  as  follows: 
"When  our  symbolic  conceptions  are  such  that  no 
cumulative  or  indirect  processes  of  thought  can  en- 
able us  to  ascertain  that  there  are  corresponding 
actualities,  nor  any  fulfilled  predictions  be  assigned 
in  justification  of  them,  then  they  are  altogether  vi- 
cious and  illusive  and  in  no  way  distinguishable  from 
pure  fictions."  (Paragraph  9,  p.  24.)  This  doctrine 
is  true,  but  exceedingly  vague.  It  really  contends 
only  that  all  conceptions  must  admit  of  being  veri- 
fied in  some  way,  either  in  direct  experience  or  in  in- 
ferences which  can  be  tested  by  experience.  When 
our  conceptions  cannot  be  presented  in  experience  or 
assimilated  to  it  or  justified  by  it,  then  of  course  they 
are  at  best  only  formal,  and  can  lay  no  claim  to  being 
real.  But  the  importance  of  all  this  consists  in  the  use 
made  of  it. 

Mr.  Spencer  next  proceeds  to  examine  existing 
notions  about  the  origin  of  the  universe.  He  says: 
"Respecting  the  origin  of  the  universe  three  verbally 
intelligible  suppositions  may  be  made.  We  may  as- 
sert that  it  is  "self -existent,  or  that  it  is  self-created; 
or  that  it  is  created  by  an  external  agency."  These 
views  are  identified  respectively  with  Atheism,  Pan- 
theism, and  Theism.  Now,  concerning  these  he  says 
they  are  all  really  inconceivable  in  the  true  sense  of 

226 


ULTIMATE^  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 

the  word,  and  Theism  is  as  much  so  as  either  of  the 
other  two.  Those  two  assume  that  something  is  self- 
existent,  while  Theism,  in  addition  to  the  assumption 
of  self-existence,  also  assumes  the  additional  incon- 
ceivability of  creation.  He  says:  "Did  there  exist  no- 
thing but  an  immeasurable  void,  explanation  would 
be  needed  as  much  as  it  is  now.  There  would  still  arise 
the  question — how  came  it  so  ?   If  the  theory  of  crea- 
tion by  external  agency  were  an  adequate  one,  it  would 
supply  an  answer;  and  its  answer  would  be  —  space 
was  made  in  the  same  manner  that  matter  was  made. 
But  the  impossibility  of  conceiving  this  is  so  manifest 
that  no  one  dares  to  assert  it.  For  if  space  was  created 
it  must  have  been  previously  non-existent.  The  non- 
existence  of  space  cannot,  however,  by  any  mental 
effort  be  imagined.  .  .  .  Lastly,  even  supposing  that 
the  genesis  of  the  Universe  could  really  be  represented 
in  thought  as  due  to  an  external  agency,  the  mystery 
would  be  as  great  as  ever;  for  there  would  still  arise 
the  question  —  how  came  there  to  be  an  external 
agency?     To  account  for  this  only  the  same  three 
hypotheses  are  possible  —  self-existence,  self-creation, 
and  creation  by  external  agency.    Of  these,  the  last 
is  useless:  it  commits  us  to  an  infinite  series  of  such 
agencies,  and  even  then  leaves  us  where  we  were." 
"Thus  these   three   different   suppositions,  verbally 
intelligible  though  they  are,  and  severally  seeming  to 
their  respective  adherents  quite  rational,  turn  out, 
when  critically  examined,  to  be  literally  unthinkable. 
It  is  not  a  question  of  probability,  or  credibility, 
but  of  conceivability.  .  .  .    Differing  so  widely  as 
they  seem  to  do,  the  atheistic,  the  pantheistic,  and 

227 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

the  theistic  hypotheses  contain  the  same  ultimate 
element.  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  making  the  assump- 
tion of  self-existence  somewhere;  and  whether  that 
assumption  be  made  nakedly  or  under  complicated 
disguises,  it  is  equally  vicious,  equally  unthinkable. 
Be  it  a  fragment  of  matter,  or  some  fancied  potential 
form  of  matter,  or  some  more  remote  and  still  less 
imaginable  mode  of  being,  our  conception  of  its  self- 
existence  can  be  framed  only  by  joining  with  it  the  no- 
tion of  unlimited  duration  through  past  time.  And  as 
unlimited  duration  is  inconceivable  all  those  formal 
ideas  into  which  it  enters  are  inconceivable. "(Para- 
graph 11,  p.  28.)  Hence  our  fundamental  ideas  of  the 
origin  of  the  universe  are  inconceivable,  and  any 
theory  whatever  of  this  origin,  religious  or  irreligious 
alike,  is  seen  to  shatter  on  this  inconceivability. 

Before  commenting  on  this  argument  we  must 
point  out  a  great  lack  of  precision  in  Mr.  Spencer's 
use  of  these  terms,  "unknowable,"  "inconceivable," 
and  "unthinkable,"  against  which  the  student  must 
be  on  his  guard.  They  are  frequently  used  as  syno- 
nyms, which  is  far  from  being  the  case;  and  the  same 
word  often  has  a  variety  of  meanings.  Thus,  by  "in- 
conceivable" we  may  mean  something  of  which  the 
mind  can  form  no  conception  whatever,  either  be- 
cause no  attributes  are  given  or  because  the  attri- 
butes are  incompatible.  The  void  would  be  a  case  of 
the  former  kind.  Nothing  is  inconceivable  because 
nothing  has  no  attributes,  and  when  we  attempt  to 
think  of  nothing,  only  a  mental  vacuum  results.  Again, 
contradictions  are  inconceivable,  because  the  attributes 
are  incompatible.  Hence  all  those  things  are  incon- 

228 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 

ceivable  which  distinctly  violate  the  laws  of  thought. 
Thus  we  cannot  think  of  space  and  time  as  finite, 
supposing  them  to  be  real  things;  for  as  soon  as  we 
assume  a  limit,  the  thought  of  space  and  time  beyond 
the  limit  emerges.  Further,  we  cannot  view  4  plus  3 
as  equal  to  9,  because  the  laws  of  numerical  thinking 
forbid  it;  and  we  cannot  think  of  two  straight  lines 
as  inclosing  space,  for  the  laws  of  geometrical  think- 
ing forbid  it.  All  these  inconceivables  violate  the  laws 
of  thought  itself. 

Again,  "inconceivable"  sometimes  means  that 
which  cannot  be  pictured  or  imagined.  In  this  sense 
a  spirit  is  inconceivable.  Only  corporeality  or  ex- 
tended things  or  limited  extension  can  be  pictured, 
and  in  this  sense  conceived;  but  then  those  things 
which  cannot  be  pictured  may  nevertheless  very  well 
be  conceived,  because  they  are  experienced,  as  in  the 
case  of  our  inner  life.  Picturing  is  limited  to  the  spa- 
tial imagination.  We  know  a  good  deal  about  thought 
and  feeling,  however,  although  these  things  are  in 
the  strictest  sense  unpicturable.  Consciousness  itself 
is  unpicturable,  but  it  is  not  inconceivable  on  that 
account.  And  in  general,  the  unpicturable  notions  of 
the  understanding  are  quite  inconceivable  in  one  sense, 
but  very  definite  objects  of  knowledge  nevertheless. 

Another  use  of  "inconceivable"  makes  it  equiva- 
lent to  "incredible."  A  great  many  things  are  said 
to  be  inconceivable  when  we  really  mean  only  that 
they  are  incredible.  Thus,  in  the  case  of  the  antipodes, 
there  was  not  the  slightest  difficulty  in  picturing  the 
proposition  that  the  antipodes  existed,  but  there 
were  no  facts  in  experience  which  made  credible  such 

229 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

a  notion.  Similarly  with  ice;  to  a  native  of  the  tropics 
who  had  never  seen  it,  it  would  be  inconceivable, 
because  his  experience  with  water  would  be  such  that 
he  could  not,  apart  from  a  new  experience,  believe 
it  capable  of  taking  on  the  solid  form.  There  are  also 
a  great  many  things  of  which  we  cannot  give  the 
rationale,  but  which  are  manifest  facts  nevertheless; 
and  many  things  may  be  inconceivable  in  that  sense 
which  are  everything  but  incredible.  In  addition  to 
these  meanings,  Mr.  Spencer,  in  the  general  dis- 
cussion, but  especially  in  his  treatment  of  the  rela- 
tivity of  knowledge,  assumes  another  inconceivability 
adopted  from  Sir  William  Hamilton.  This  is  the 
inconceivability  of  all  ultimate  facts,  of  which  he  says 
they  cannot  be  subsumed  under  any  higher  class  and 
are  therefore  inconceivable.  This  is  next  identified 
with  "unknowable,"  giving  the  result  that  we  must 
look  upon  all  those  general  truths  which  underlie 
knowledge,  and  of  which  we  are  most  certain,  as  in- 
conceivable, which  is  supposed  to  mean  unknowable. 
The  term  "unknowable,"  also,  is  one  of  uncertain 
meaning.  It  might  mean  something  unrelated  to  our 
faculties,  and  therefore  beyond  their  range.  The  con- 
tents of  a  new  sense  would  be  unknowable,  as  there 
is  nothing  in  our  present  experience  to  suggest  what 
they  would  be  like.  Again,  a  thing  might  be  un- 
knowable because,  while  we  could  easily  conceive 
the  fact,  we  have  no  evidence  of  its  existence.  The 
landscape  of  the  opposite  side  of  the  moon  would  be  a 
case  of  this  kind.  As  that  side  is  forever  turned  away 
from  the  earth,  we  have  no  means  of  knowing  any- 
thing about  it.  And  sometimes  by  "unknowable" 

230 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 

we  merely  mean  that  the  subject  does  not  admit  of 
demonstration,  but  remains  an  object  of  belief  in 
distinction  from  knowledge.  In  this  sense  the  great 
bulk  of  our  convictions  belong  to  the  unknowable. 

Thus  it  is  manifest  that  the  terms  we  have  been  dis- 
cussing are  far  from  univocal  in  themselves,  and  still 
farther  from  being  synonymous  with  one  another. 
This  uncertainty  continually  appears  in  Mr.  Spencer's 
use  of  them,  provoking  most  justly  critical  impatience 
if  not  wrath. 

We  return  now  to  Mr.  Spencer's  argument  against 
all  ideas  of  the  origin  of  things.  And  first,  we  call 
attention  to  the  extraordinary  misreading  of  the  law 
of  causation  involved  in  the  statement,  "Did  there 
exist  nothing  but  an  immeasurable  void,  explanation 
would  be  needed  as  much  as  it  is  now.  There  would 
still  arise  the  question, — how  came  it  so?"  Mr. 
Spencer  apparently  thought  that  the  law  of  causation 
commits  us  to  the  infinite  regress,  so  that  we  must 
forever  explain  the  explanation  —  which  is  the  same 
as  explaining  nothing.  One  sometimes  finds  this 
notion  with  children  who  ask,  Who  made  God?  But 
apart  from  these  infantile  philosophers,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  it  outside  of  Mr.  Spencer's  pages.  In 
fact,  the  demand  for  causation  arises  only  in  connec- 
tion with  the  changing  and  dependent. 

The  fatal  objection  to  our  ideas  of  the  origin  of 
things,  according  to  Mr.  Spencer,  is  that  they  all 
imply  existence  through  infinite  time,  and  the  infini- 
tude is  the  point  of  difficulty.  Some  question  may 
arise  about  this  position.  As  Mr.  Mill  has  pointed 
out,  "The  Infinite"  may  perhaps  be  an  impossible 

231 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

notion,  but  infinitude,  when  applied  to  matter  of 
which  we  have  some  experience,  seems  by  no  means 
to  be  so  fatal.  We  shall  later  consider  this  "Infinite" 
and  find  that,  instead  of  being  a  veritable  thought,  it 
is  rather  "a  symbolic  conception  of  the  illegitimate 
order."  But  when  we  are  dealing  with  the  infinite  as 
an  attribute  instead  of  a  reality,  the  matter  is  not  so 
clear.  Suppose  we  apply  it  to  space,  time,  power, 
goodness,  and  so  on.  These  ideas  do  not  become 
absurd  and  impossible  because  of  the  infinitude  which 
may  be  attributed  to  them.  We  know  somewhat  of 
space,  its  geometric  properties,  and  so  forth.  We  can 
measure  it  and  determine  various  relations  about  it. 
The  results  thus  reached  are  real  knowledge,  and  they 
would  not  disappear  if  this  space  were  declared  to  be 
unlimited.  In  that  case  we  should  simply  have  the 
knowledge  we  now  possess,  with  the  additional  know- 
ledge that  this  space  extends  in  all  directions  without 
limit.  Similarly  with  time  and  number.  We  measure 
time  by  number  and  have  some  idea  of  these  temporal 
and  numerical  relations,  and  these  again  would  not 
vanish  if  it  were  said  that  the  temporal  and  numerical 
series  are  unlimited.  Geometry  and  arithmetic  would 
not  be  overthrown  by  bringing  the  attributes  of  infin- 
itude into  the  subjects  of  which  we  now  have  some 
knowledge.  Similarly  with  power  and  goodness.  The 
positive  content  of  these  ideas  would  in  no  way  be 
affected  if  we  conceived  that  there  is  a  power  to  which 
no  limit  can  be  set  and  a  goodness  which  is  perfect  and 
complete.  If  to  this  we  objected  that  even  so  we  re- 
main within  the  limits  of  the  finite  and  do  not  appre- 
hend the  infinite  as  such,  the  answer  would  be  that  even 

232 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 

then  we  should  remain  within  the  field  of  knowledge, 
in  spite  of  the  finitude  of  our  apprehension. 

But  leaving  this  doubt,  Mr.  Spencer's  argument 
rests  on  the  assumption  that  to  conceive  infinite  time 
we  must  image  it,  and  of  course  the  infinite  cannot 
be  imaged  by  the  finite  mind.  But  this  assumption 
is  distinctly  false  and  rests  upon  confounding  pure 
thought  with  the  imagination.  Mr.  Mill,  in  his  exam- 
ination of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  has  criticized  this 
view  very  clearly  and  decisively.  Speaking  of  Ham- 
ilton he  says,  "Sir  William  Hamilton  argues  that  we 
cannot  conceive  infinite  space  because  we  should 
require  infinite  time  to  do  it  in."1  This  is  clearly  the 
same  argument  as  that  of  Mr.  Spencer,  and  Mr.  Mill's 
criticism  applies  equally.  He  says:  "It  would  of 
course  require  infinite  time  to  carry  our  thoughts  in 
succession  over  every  part  of  infinite  space.  But  on 
how  many  of  our  finite  conceptions  do  we  think  it 
necessary  to  perform  such  an  operation?  Let  us  try 
the  doctrine  upon  a  complex  whole,  short  of  infinite; 
such  as  the  number  695,788.  Sir  William  Hamilton 
would  not,  I  suppose,  have  maintained  that  this  num- 
ber is  inconceivable.  How  long  did  he  think  it  would 
take  to  go  over  every  separate  unit  of  this  whole,  so 
as  to  obtain  a  perfect  knowledge  of  that  exact  sum, 
as  different  from  all  other  sums,  either  greater  or  less? 
Would  he  have  said  that  we  could  have  no  conception 
of  the  sum  until  this  process  had  been  gone  through? 
We  could  not,  indeed,  have  an  adequate  conception. 
Accordingly,  we  never  have  an  adequate  conception 

1  J.  S.  Mill,  Examination  of  Sir  Wittiam  Hamilton's  Philosophy, 
p.  105. 

233 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

of  any  real  thing.  But  we  have  a  real  conception  of  an 
object  if  we  conceive  it  by  any  of  its  attributes  that 
are  sufficient  to  distinguish  it  from  all  other  things." l 
In  other  words,  we  have  a  conception  of  a  thing  when 
we  know  what  we  mean  and  when  the  conception  is 
distinguished  from  all  other  conceptions,  keeping  its 
own  place  and  significance;  and  it  is  not  necessary  in 
order  to  this  conception  that  it  should  be  complete  or 
that  it  should  be  picturable.  Of  course  we  cannot 
imagine  infinite  time  or  space,  as  it  would  require 
infinite  time  to  do  it,  and  moreover  the  idea  itself  is  a 
contradiction,  for  when  we  imagine  a  thing  we  do  it 
only  through  the  establishment  of  limits;  but  it  is  still 
conceivable  that  we  should  have  the  thought  of  infin- 
ite space  or  infinite  time,  supposing  either  of  them  to 
be  anything  real,  through  the  insight  that  no  limit 
can  be  set.  In  which  case  our  thought  would  not  be 
negative,  but  would  have  the  positive  content  of 
extension  and  duration  with  the  added  insight  that 
there  is  no  end  and  no  beginning  to  either. 

Thus,  Mr.  Spencer's  first  application  of  his  doc- 
trine of  symbolic  conceptions  turns  out  to  be  an  un- 
lucky one.  Moreover,  Spencer  very  soon  contradicts 
himself  when  he  passes  into  the  section  on  the  Know- 
able,  for  there  he  affirms  a  fundamental  reality  wrhich 
certainly  seems  to  be  self-existent  in  the  sense  that  it 
does  not  depend  on  anything  else,  and  also  seems  to 
be  eternal.  And  not  only  the  fundamental  reality  is 
thus  complicated  with  infinite  time,  past  and  future, 
but  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  the  persistence  of 
force  and  the  indestructibility  of  matter  seem  to  be  in 
1  Mill,  op.  dt.t  p.  106. 
234 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 

the  same  condemnation.  These  doctrines  apparently 
imply  existence  through  infinite  time,  past  and  future; 
and  these  doctrines  are  set  up  as  a  priori  truths  of  the 
first  evidence,  so  much  so  that  to  question  them  is  set 
down  as  a  mark  of  belated  intelligence.  Certainly  no 
one  would  suspect,  when  reading  this  section,  that  the 
fundamental  reality  or  even  matter  and  force  begin  or 
end.  But  clearly  if  these  doctrines  are  to  be  main- 
tained, in  spite  of  the  infinitude  of  time  which  they 
imply,  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  the  same 
infinitude  should  be  fatal  to  the  religious  ideas,  which 
certainly  no  more  imply  them.  It  would  be  unpermis- 
sible  partiality  to  rule  out  the  religious  ideas  because 
they  imply  infinite  time,  and  to  maintain  these  scien- 
tific doctrines  although  they  imply  the  same  infini- 
tude. If  it  should  be  said  that  the  infinite  implied 
in  these  doctrines  is  a  symbolic  infinitude  and  not  to 
be  literally  taken,  that  would  simply  empty  the  doc- 
trine of  all  meaning. 

Mr.  Spencer  now  leaves  the  origin  of  the  universe 
and  turns  to  its  nature  and  finds  similar  difficulties 
and  inconceivabilities  emerging.  He  says:  "Certain 
conclusions  respecting  the  nature  of  the  universe  thus 
seem  unavoidable.  In  our  search  after  causes,  we  dis- 
cover no  resting-place  until  we  arrive  at  a  First  Cause; 
and  we  have  no  alternative  but  to  regard  this  First 
Cause  as  Infinite  and  Absolute.  These  are  inferences 
forced  on  us  by  arguments  from  which  there  appears 
no  escape.  Nevertheless,  neither  arguments  nor 
inferences  have  more  than  nominal  values."  (Page 
32.)  But  instead  of  showing  this  by  his  own  argu- 
ments, Mr.  Spencer  prefers  to  adopt  an  argument 

235 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

from  Mr.  Mansel,  which  he  quotes  at  length  as  fol- 
lows: "But  these  three  conceptions,  the  Cause,  the 
Absolute,  the  Infinite,  all  equally  indispensable,  do 
they  not  imply  contradiction  to  each  other,  when 
viewed  in  conjunction,  as  attributes  of  one  and  the 
same  Being?  A  Cause  cannot,  as  such,  be  absolute: 
the  Absolute  cannot,  as  such,  be  a  cause.  The  cause, 
as  such,  exists  only  in  relation  to  its  effect;  the  cause 
is  a  cause  of  the  effect;  the  effect  is  an  effect  of  the 
cause.  On  the  other  hand,  the  conception  of  the 
Absolute  implies  a  possible  existence  out  of  all  rela- 
tion. We  attempt  to  escape  from  this  apparent  con- 
tradiction, by  introducing  the  idea  of  succession  in 
time.  The  Absolute  exists  first  by  itself,  and  afterwards 
becomes  a  Cause.  But  here  we  are  checked  by  the 
third  conception,  that  of  the  Infinite.  How  can  the 
Infinite  become  that  which  it  was  not  from  the  first? 
If  Causation  is  a  possible  mode  of  existence,  that 
which  exists  without  causing  is  not  infinite;  that 
which  becomes  a  cause  has  passed  beyond  its  former 
limits."  (Page  33.) 

This  argument  is  little  more  than  a  play  on  words. 
It  is  rather  etymologizing  than  philosophizing,  and 
fails  to  notice  the  true  character  of  the  ideas  in  ques- 
tion. The  first  cause  is  of  course  related  to  the  effect. 
A  cause  out  of  all  relation  to  an  effect  is  no  cause. 
There  could  be  no  reason  for  affirming  it  and  no  use 
could  be  made  of  it  if  it  were  affirmed.  Hence  the 
first  cause  is  related,  and  hence  it  is  said  it  cannot  be 
absolute.  But  the  real  absolute  is  not  unrelated,  for 
if  it  were,  it  too  would  be  altogether  worthless.  The 
real  absolute  is  reached  in  the  following  way.  We 


ULTIMATE  RELIGIOUS  IDEAS 

find  the  things  of  experience  of  such  a  kind  that  no 
one  has  its  existence  in  itself,  but  each  thing  refers  us 
to  other  things  as  at  least  its  partial  ground.  Now, 
such  things,  because  they  exist  only  in  relation,  we 
call  relative,  and  their  relatedness  extends  to  their 
very  existence.  But  by  the  necessity  of  thought  we 
are  unable  to  rest  in  such  things  as  final  and  are  driven 
on  to  affirm  some  other  being  which  is  self-centred  and 
self-sufficient,  which  needs  nothing  else  therefore  for 
its  existence.  This  being  we  call  the  absolute,  and  it  is 
the  only  real  absolute.  But  this  absolute  is  not  out  of 
relation,  but  out  of  restrictive  relation.  Its  relations 
are  freely  posited  and  maintained  by  itself  and  are  not 
imposed  upon  it  from  without,  and  this  absolute  can 
be  a  cause  without  any  injury  to  its  absoluteness. 

Likewise,  the  infinite  conceived  of  as  the  All  is  a 
mere  conception,  and  it  is  easy  to  show  that  such  an 
infinite  cannot  coexist  with  anything  beyond  itself; 
for  in  that  case  there  would  be  something  beyond  the 
All,  and  this  would  be  absurd.  But  the  real  infinite  is 
not  the  All,  but  rather  the  independent  ground  of  the 
finite.  We  are  forced  to  affirm  it  from  observing  the 
limitations  of  things  in  experience,  and  we  affirm  it 
not  as  something  which  includes  and  swallows  up  or 
annihilates  all  other  things,  but  rather  as  their  inde- 
pendent and,  in  that  sense,  unlimited  source.  But 
the  first  cause,  the  absolute,  and  the  infinite  in  this 
sense,  so  far  from  being  contradictory  ideas,  really 
imply  one  another.  Neither  the  absolute  nor  the  in- 
finite would  be  anything  were  it  not  a  cause,  and  the 
first  cause  would  not  be  such  if  it  were  not  both  abso- 
lute and  infinite  in  the  sense  we  have  mentioned.  We 

237 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

have,  then,  simply  to  keep  to  the  philosophical  mean- 
ing of  these  terms  in  order  to  dismiss  entirely  the 
argument  which  Mr.  Spencer  quotes  from  Mr.  Man- 
sel.  Mr.  Mill,  in  his  "Examination  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton,"  referring  to  the  verbal  character  of  this 
argument,  says  that  it  is  hard  to  believe  its  author 


"serious." 


So  much  for  ultimate  religious  ideas.  Mr.  Spencer 
claims  to  have  shown  that  they  are  impossible  and 
self-destructive.  He  next  proceeds  to  make  the  same 
showing  for  ultimate  scientific  ideas. 

Ultimate  Scientific  Ideas 

In  this  chapter  Mr.  Spencer  gives  a  somewhat  mis- 
cellaneous collection  of  difficulties  and  contradictions 
in  the  basal  ideas  of  science;  space,  time,  matter, 
motion,  force,  and  conscious  mind  are  reflected  upon 
and  divers  inconceivabilities  and  impossibilities  are 
pointed  out.  In  this  work  Mr.  Spencer  is  not  very 
strong.  His  analysis  of  space  and  time  is  superficial 
and  the  difficulties  he  urges  are  not  weighty.  Simi- 
larly in  the  case  of  motion.  The  difficulties  in  matter 
turn  largely  on  its  space  relations,  its  divisibility  or 
indivisibility,  its  extension  or  its  punctual  character. 
The  conception  of  force  likewise  is  convicted  of  vari- 
ous inconceivabilities,  and  finally  the  notion  of  con- 
sciousness is  shown  to  be  also  impossible.  In  the  first 
edition  of  "First  Principles"  Mr.  Spencer  declared 
that  resisting  matter  is  a  contradiction,  since  force 
must  vary  as  the  inverse  square  of  the  distance.  This 
was  changed  in  the  third  edition,  he  having  come  to 
see  the  physical  absurdity  of  the  alleged  scheme.  The 

238 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 

notion  of  consciousness  is  declared  to  be  unthinkable 
or  inconceivable,  because  we  cannot  think  of  con- 
sciousness as  finite  nor  yet  as  infinite.  We  cannot 
view  the  conscious  chain  as  infinite  and  we  cannot  say 
it  is  finite;  for  we  have  no  direct  knowledge  of  either 
of  its  ends.  "Go  back  in  memory  as  far  as  we  may, 
we  are  wholly  unable  to  identify  our  first  states  of 
consciousness.  Similarly  at  the  other  extreme.  We 
infer  a  termination  to  the  series  at  a  future  time,  but 
cannot  directly  know  it;  and  we  cannot  really  lay  hold 
of  that  temporary  termination  reached  at  the  present 
moment.  For  the  state  of  consciousness  recognized 
by  us  as  our  last,  is  not  truly  our  last.  .  .  .  Now  to 
represent  the  termination  of  consciousness  as  occur- 
ring in  ourselves,  is  to  think  of  ourselves  as  contem- 
plating the  cessation  of  the  last  state  of  consciousness; 
and  this  implies  a  supposed  continuance  of  conscious- 
ness after  its  last  state,  which  is  absurd. 

"Hence,  while  we  are  unable  either  to  believe  or  to 
conceive  the  duration  of  consciousness  is  infinite,  we 
are  equally  unable  either  to  know  it  as  finite,  or  to 
conceive  it  as  finite."  (Page  52.) 

It  would  be  hard  to  tell  in  what  sense  "know"  and 
"conceive"  are  used  in  this  passage.  There  is  cer- 
tainly no  difficulty  in  conceiving  and  knowing  that 
our  consciousness  is  not  infinite.  The  argument,  such 
as  it  is,  all  turns  upon  the  fact  that  we  cannot  be  con- 
scious of  the  beginning  or  the  end  of  consciousness  as 
such,  for  to  be  conscious  of  the  end  of  consciousness  is 
to  be  conscious  after  consciousness,  which  is  absurd. 
But  to  conclude  from  this  that  we  may  not  have  the 
very  best  reason  for  saying  and  believing  that  con- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

sciousness  may  begin  and  may  end  is  in  the  highest 
degree  grotesque.  Thus,  if  I  say,  I  believe  I  was  not 
alive  in  the  year  1800  and  I  shall  not  be  alive  in  the 
year  2000,  [it  is  clear  that  this]  is  very  different  from 
saying  that  [I  am]  conscious  of  myself  as  not  alive  in 
the  year  1800  and  the  year  2000.  If  the  statement 
meant  this,  it  would  be  to  think  of  myself  as  living 
and  dead  at  the  same  time,  and  this  is  what  Mr. 
Spencer's  argument  assumes  it  to  mean.  Of  course  I 
could  not  consciously  realize  myself  as  dead,  that  is, 
as  unconscious  at  any  time;  but  there  appears  to  be 
no  difficulty  in  the  notion  that  I  might  have  the  best 
of  reasons  for  believing  that  I  was  not  conscious  at 
some  particular  time  and  that  I  will  not  be  conscious 
at  some  other  particular  time.  It  is  certainly  very  dif- 
ferent, to  think  of  a  fact  as  true  at  a  certain  date,  and 
to  be  present  and  conscious  of  the  fact  as  actually  oc- 
curring at  that  date.  Such  argument  hardly  rises  to 
the  dignity  of  a  sophism.  It  would  equally  prove  that 
I  cannot  believe  or  know  or  conceive  that  I  shall  go  to 
sleep  to-night,  because  to  do  that  I  must  be  conscious 
of  my  being  unconscious  in  sleep.  It  would  appear 
almost  a  good  a  priori  argument  for  immortality,  and 
would  show  those  people  who  have  doubts  about  life 
after  death  that  they  really  do  not  think  when  they 
express  such  doubts,  for  when  they  think  they  see 
that  the  conception  of  death  is  impossible. 

Mr.  Spencer  adds  to  this  a  further  contradiction  in 
the  notion  of  self-consciousness.  He  says,  "The  per- 
sonality of  which  each  is  conscious,  and  the  exist- 
ence of  which  is  to  each  a  fact  beyond  all  others  the 
most  certain,  is  yet  a  thing  which  cannot  be  known  at 

240 


ULTIMATE  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS 

all,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word."  (Page  55.)  And 
the  reason  for  this  is  found  in  the  fact  that  all  con- 
sciousness involves  the  distinction  of  subject  and 
object.  Where  there  is  no  subject  and  where  there  is 
no  object  there  is  equally  no  consciousness.  In  self- 
consciousness,  then,  if  the  object  perceived  is  self, 
what  is  the  subject  that  perceives?  or  if  it  is  the  true 
self  which  thinks,  what  other  self  can  it  be  that  is 
thought  of?  Clearly  a  true  cognition  of  self  implies 
a  state  in  which  the  knowing  and  the  known  are  one, 
in  which  subject  and  object  are  identified,  and  this  is 
held  to  be  the  annihilation  of  both. 

The  answer  to  all  this  is  that  it  mistakes  the  dual 
form  of  consciousness  for  a  metaphysical  distinction. 
All  consciousness  does  take  place  under  the  form  of 
subject  and  object,  but  it  does  not  imply  that  the  sub- 
ject and  object  must  be  different  things.  The  subject 
and  the  object  in  self-consciousness  are  the  same.  The 
thinking  self  thinks  of  itself,  and  thus  it  is  at  once  sub- 
ject and  object.  Of  course  there  is  no  telling  how  this 
is  possible.  But  at  the  same  time  it  is  the  most  mani- 
fest fact  of  experience  or  the  most  certain  idea  of 
knowledge.  Facts  may  be  known  as  facts  which  we 
cannot  further  construe,  and  indeed  this  must  be  the 
case  with  all  ultimate  facts,  and  yet  they  may  remain, 
though  unconstruable,  among  the  most  undeniable 
items  of  knowledge. 

Thus,  by  analysis  of  our  ideas,  both  religious  and 
scientific,  Mr.  Spencer  claims  to  show  their  self-de- 
structive character.  He  next  proceeds  by  analysis  of 
the  process  of  knowledge  itself  to  prove  that  the  hu- 
man mind  by  its  very  nature  is  absolutely  incapable 

£41 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

of  other  than  purely  phenomenal  knowledge.  This 
doctrine  he  discusses  under  the  name  of  the  "Rela- 
tivity of  all  Knowledge," 

The  Relativity  of  all  Knowledge 

This  doctrine,  or  rather  this  phrase,  is  a  very  vague 
thing  and  admits  of  a  great  variety  of  meanings.  Mr. 
Mill  says  of  it:  "In  one  of  its  senses,  it  stands  for  a 
proposition  respecting  the  nature  and  limits  of  our 
knowledge,  in  my  judgment  true,  fundamental,  and 
full  of  important  consequences  in  philosophy.  From 
this  amplitude  of  meaning,  its  significance  shades 
down  through  a  number  of  gradations,  successively 
more  thin  and  unsubstantial,  until  it  fades  into  a  tru- 
ism leading  to  no  consequences,  and  hardly  worth 
enunciating  in  words.  When,  therefore,  a  philosopher 
lays  great  stress  upon  the  relativity  of  our  knowledge, 
it  is  necessary  to  cross-examine  his  writings,  and  com- 
pel them  to  disclose  in  which  of  its  many  degrees  of 
meaning  he  understands  the  phrase."1  There  are 
really  only  two  meanings  of  much  significance.  The 
doctrine  may  mean  that  all  knowledge  is  relative  to 
our  faculties.  In  this  sense  it  is  a  truism.  If  there  be 
anything  whatever  that  is  strictly  unrelated  to  our 
faculties,  say  the  objects  of  a  new  sense,  it  is  clear  that 
we  cannot  know  them.  But  the  doctrine  in  this  sense 
is  so  obvious  as  to  call  for  no  statement.  Again,  the 
doctrine  may  mean  that  our  faculties  are  such  that  in 
some  way  they  mask  or  transform  reality,  so  that  it 
cannot  be  known  to  us  in  its  true  character.  This  is 
the  meaning  the  doctrine  generally  has  in  all  the  views 

1  Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  p.  13. 

242 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

of  relativity  which  have  sprung  from  the  Kantian  sys- 
tem. Mr.  Spencer  himself  does  not  define  the  doctrine, 
and  we  have  to  ascertain  its  meaning  from  the  argu- 
ment he  gives  for  it  and  the  uses  he  makes  of  it.  In 
general  he  understands  it  in  the  second  sense  given. 
We  cannot  know  the  real  as  it  is.  We  can  know  it  only 
as  it  appears  to  us,  and  this  appearance  never  truly 
represents  the  fact. 

Mr.  Spencer  opens  the  discussion  by  showing  that 
all  explanation  consists  in  referring  a  fact  to  some 
more  general  class.  When  a  new  fact  is  presented  to 
us  it  remains  isolated  and  strange  until  we  are  able  to 
classify  it  as  a  case  of  a  kind.  In  this  sense  all  cogni- 
tion involves  recognition.  That  is,  the  cognitive  act 
is  not  complete  until  the  new  fact  is  assimilated  to 
other  facts.  When  this  can  be  done,  we  view  the  fact 
as  explained.  Any  further  explanation  of  the  fact 
would  consist  in  explaining  this  class  in  the  same  way, 
that  is,  by  referring  it  also  to  some  other  class  still 
more  general.  From  this  Mr.  Spencer  draws  the  con- 
clusion that  the  ultimate  fact  must  be  inexplicable 
and  unknowable. 

The  argument  here  given  is  a  case  of  the  confusion 
mentioned  in  the  previous  paragraph,  that  is,  the  con- 
founding of  something  which  cannot  be  subsumed  un- 
der a  higher  term  with  something  unknowable.  This 
is  a  misleading  use,  as  we  have  seen,  of  the  term  "con- 
ceivable." It  is  a  use  which  Hamilton  bequeathed  to 
us  and  which  Mr.  Spencer  has  adopted,  but  it  is  a  mis- 
use nevertheless.  And  in  any  case,  what  this  process 
gives  us  is  simply  a  set  of  facts  which  cannot  be  fur- 
ther classified  or  deduced  from  other  facts  beyond 

243 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

them.  Whether  they  shall  be  knowable  or  not  de- 
pends upon  their  own  character  and  not  upon  the  im- 
possibility of  further  classification.  If  the  original 
facts  are  mysterious  and  are  simply  grouped  in  a  com- 
mon mystery,  then  they  remain  mysterious  in  their 
ultimate  nature  after  classification.  But  if  the  mys- 
terious facts  are  grouped  in  a  class,  into  whose  nature 
we  have  insight  or  which  we  perceive  to  be  a  reality 
which  can  be  known  and  described,  then  the  mystery 
of  the  original  facts  disappears.  We  find  illustration 
of  the  former  case  in  gravitation.  We  explain  the  fall 
or  floating  of  bodies  by  referring  them  to  the  force  of 
gravity,  but  this  explanation  leaves  gravity  as  mys- 
terious as  ever;  and  no  amount  of  reference  of  such 
facts  to  gravity  makes  their  inner  nature  in  any  respect 
less  mysterious.  The  advantage  of  such  explanation 
is  one  of  mental  convenience  rather  than  of  insight. 
We  lump  certain  mysteries  in  a  common  mystery  and 
then  they  are  more  conveniently  managed  as  belong- 
ing together.  But  if  we  should  find  a  reason  for  think- 
'ing  that  the  force  of  gravity  is  really  the  volitional 
causality  of  an  all-embracing  intellect,  then  the  classi- 
fication would  give  us  some  real  insight.  We  could 
perceive  both  that  the  facts  belong  together  in  a  com- 
mon class  and  we  should  assimilate  that  class  to  our 
own  volitional  action.  In  other  cases  classification  re- 
mains entirely  within  the  limits  of  knowledge.  When 
we  classify  mathematical  truths,  for  instance,  under 
simple  principles,  or  refer  them  to  axioms  and  intui- 
tions, we  may  gain  very  real  insight  as  they  are  seen 
to  be  implications  of  familiar  truths.  In  that  case  our 
first  principles  which  support  them  all  are  not  un- 

244 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

knowable  because  they  cannot  be  further  referred  or 
deduced,  for  they  stand  in  their  own  right  and  are 
seen  by  direct  insight.  Squares,  rectangles,  parallelo- 
grams are  classified  as  quadrilaterals,  and  we  may  go 
on  to  include  triangles  and  polygons  and  circles  and 
elipses  as  plane  figures.  Here  there  is  inclusion  of 
classes  within  higher  classes,  but  there  is  no  move- 
ment toward  any  ultimately  unknowable  fact.  Such 
facts  are  inexplicable  only  in  the  sense  of  not  being 
explained  by  something  else.  They  are  incompre- 
hensible in  the  sense  of  not  being  comprehended  by 
something  else,  and  they  are  not  unknowable  at  all. 

This  rather  confused  and  inconsequent  argument 
Mr.  Spencer  uses  to  prove  the  impossibility  of  our 
knowledge  of  the  real  existence  of  the  Absolute,  the 
Infinite,  the  Unconditioned,  etc.  He  says:  "If  the 
successively  deeper  interpretations  of  Nature  which 
constitute  advancing  knowledge,  are  merely  succes- 
sive inclusions  of  special  truths  in  general  truths,  and 
of  general  truths  in  truths  still  more  general;  it  follows 
that  the  most  general  truth,  not  admitting  of  inclu- 
sion in  any  other,  does  not  admit  of  interpretation. 
Of  necessity,  therefore,  explanation  must  eventually 
bring  us  down  to  the  inexplicable.  Comprehension 
must  become  something  other  than  comprehension 
before  the  ultimate  fact  can  be  comprehended." 
(Page  61.)  In  this  quotation  we  see  again  the  oscilla- 
tion between  the  inexplicable  and  incomprehensible 
and  the  unknowable,  a  continual  substitution  of  syn- 
onyms, which  are  not  quite  synonyms,  to  reach  his 
result. 

After  thus  opening  the  argument,  Mr.  Spencer 

245 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

quotes  again  Sir  William  Hamilton  and  Mansel  with 
approval  in  support  of  his  conclusion.  Thus  Mr.  Man- 
sel is  quoted  as  saying:  "The  very  conception  of  con- 
sciousness, in  whatever  mode  it  may  be  manifested, 
necessarily  implies  distinction  between  one  object 
and  another.  To  be  conscious,  we  must  be  conscious 
of  something;  and  that  something  can  only  be  known, 
as  that  which  it  is,  by  being  distinguished  from  that 
which  it  is  not.  But  distinction  is  necessarily  limit- 
ation; for,  if  one  object  is  to  be  distinguished  from  an- 
other, it  must  possess  some  form  of  existence  which 
the  other  has  not,  or  it  must  not  possess  some  form 
which  the  other  has.  ...  If  all  thought  is  limitation;— 
if  whatever  we  conceive,  is  by  the  very  act  of  concep- 
tion regarded  as  finite,  —  the  infinite,  from  a  human 
point  of  view,  is  merely  a  name  for  the  absence  of 
those  conditions  under  which  thought  is  possible.  .  .  . 
A  second  characteristic  of  Consciousness  is,  that  it  is 
only  possible  in  the  form  of  a  relation.  There  must  be 
a  Subject,  or  person  conscious,  and  an  Object,  or  thing 
of  which  he  is  conscious.  .  .  .  The  subject  is  a  sub- 
ject, only  in  so  far  as  it  is  conscious  of  an  object:  the 
object  is  an  object,  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  apprehended 
by  a  subject:  and  the  destruction  of  either  is  the  de- 
struction of  consciousness  itself.  It  is  thus  manifest 
that  a  consciousness  of  the  Absolute  is  equally  self- 
contradictory  with  that  of  the  Infinite."  (Page  64.) 
Mr.  Spencer  further  supports  this  conclusion  by  an 
additional  argument  of  his  own.  He  points  out  that 
knowledge  involves,  besides  distinction  and  relation, 
also  likeness.  Cognition  involves  recognition.  To 
know  a  thing  is  to  know  it  as  such  or  such,  and  if  • 

246 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

there  were  anything  which  could  not  be  classified 
with  other  things  under  some  element  of  likeness,  it 
would  necessarily  lie  beyond  our  knowledge.  From 
this  he  concludes  as  follows:  "A  cognition  of  the  Real, 
as  distinguished  from  the  Phenomenal,  must,  if  it  ex- 
ists, conform  to  this  law  of  cognition  in  general.  The 
First  Cause,  the  Infinite,  the  Absolute,  to  be  known 
at  all,  must  be  classed.  To  be  positively  thought  of,  it 
must  be  thought  of  as  such  or  such,  —  as  of  this  or 
that  kind.  Can  it  be  like  in  kind  to  anything  of  which 
we  have  experience?  Obviously  not."  (Page  67.) 
That  is,  the  first  cause,  the  infinite,  and  the  absolute, 
by  their  nature,  cannot  be  classed  with  anything. 
There  cannot  be  more  than  one  first  cause,  he  says, 
neither  can  there  be  more  than  one  infinite  or  one 
absolute.  Hence  he  concludes:  "The  Unconditioned 
therefore,  as  classable  neither  with  any  form  of  the 
conditioned  nor  with  any  other  Unconditioned,  can- 
not be  classed  at  all.  And  to  admit  that  it  cannot  be 
known  as  such  or  such  kind,  is  to  admit  that  it  is 
unknowable. 

"Thus,  from  the  very  nature  of  thought  the  relativ- 
ity of  our  knowledge  is  inferable  in  three  ways.  As  we 
find  by  analyzing  it,  and  as  we  see  it  objectively  dis- 
played in  every  proposition,  a  thought  involves  rela- 
tion, difference,  likeness.  Whatever  does  not  present 
each  of  these  does  not  admit  of  cognition.  And  hence 
we  may  say  that  the  Unconditioned,  as  presenting 
none  of  them,  is  trebly  unthinkable. "  (Page  68.) 

This  argument  also  rests  on  etymologizing  rather 
than  on  philosophizing,  that  is,  it  rests  upon  that 
false  conception  of  the  Infinite  as  the  All  and  of  the 

247 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

Absolute  as  unrelated,  and  it  really  has  no  applica- 
tion whatever  to  the  real  infinite,  absolute,  and  first 
cause,  It  is  true  that  all  knowledge  involves  relation 
of  some  kind  and  a  strictly  unrelated  object  could  not 
be  known.  But  it  is  equally  true  that  this  fundamen- 
tal reality  is  related  and  may  be  known  as  such.  The 
infinite  is  distinguished,  it  is  related,  it  is  classed,  as 
cause,  being,  power,  etc,  When  Mr.  Spencer  says 
there  can  be  only  one  first  cause,  and  therefore  it  can- 
not be  classed,  his  remark  would  apply  equally  to  the 
first  wheelbarrow:  there  is  only  one  first  wheelbarrow, 
and  yet  the  first  wheelbarrow  might  be  classed  with 
other  wheelbarrows  although  it  is  unique  in  being  first. 
The  first  cause  would  be  classed  in  the  same  way  with 
other  causes  and  other  beings  in  spite  of  its  unique- 
ness as  first  cause.  Similarly  with  the  absolute,  it 
would  be  classed  with  other  things  as  existing,  as  hav- 
ing various  attributes,  etc.,  and  its  own  self-existence 
would  not  forbid  its  classification.  We  admit,  then, 
the  premises  of  Hamilton,  Mansel,  and  Spencer,  but 
deny  their  conclusion,  and  for  the  obvious  reason  that 
their  conclusion  rests  upon  sheer  verbalism  which 
ignores  the  essential  character  of  the  facts. 

But  now  begins  a  regress,  Hamilton  and  Mansel 
made  the  infinite  and  absolute  simply  negations. 
They  held  that  they  did  not  represent  any  positive 
thought,  but  rather  the  absence  of  the  conditions  of 
thinking.  In  that  case  all  knowledge  is  of  course  shut 
up  within  the  sphere  of  the  finite,  and  anything  be- 
yond that  must  be  looked  upon  as  pure  vacuity,  a 
vacuum  in  which  no  flight  is  possible  because  there 
would  be  no  resisting  air.  But  Spencer,  although 

248 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

quoting  with  approval  all  their  argument  based  upon 
the  negative  character  of  the  notions,  is  unwilling  to 
accept  their  results,  and  hence  he  begins  to  move 
toward  the  opposite  extreme  of  making  the  funda- 
mental reality  the  most  positive  element  of  thought 
instead  of  a  mere  negation.  It  is  interesting  to  note 
that  Hamilton  himself  drew  back  from  his  own  con- 
clusion in  a  peculiar  way.  He  says:  "By  a  wonder- 
ful revelation,  we  are  thus,  in  the  very  consciousness 
of  our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above  the  relative 
and  finite,  inspired  with  a  belief  in  the  existence  of 
something  unconditioned  beyond  the  sphere  of  all 
comprehensible  reality."  (Page  63.)  Mansel  also 
says:  "The  Absolute,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  term 
expressing  no  object  of  thought,  but  only  a  denial  of 
the  relation  by  which  thought  is  constituted."  (Page 
65.)  But  Mr.  Mansel,  too,  was  not  willing  to  hand 
the  absolute  over  to  sheer  non-existence,  but  regarded 
it,  in  spite  of  utterances  like  that  just  given,  as  some- 
thing altogether  real.  Hence  Mr.  Spencer  is  not  out 
of  their  line  when  he  proceeds  to  save  the  fundamen- 
tal reality  from  the  mere  negation  to  which  the  argu- 
ment that  has  been  given  would  consign  it.  And  he 
proceeds  to  claim  that,  besides  the  definite  conscious- 
ness to  which  the  laws  of  thought  apply  and  where 
the  conclusions  reached  would  be  absolutely  valid, 
there  is  another  indefinite  consciousness  which  cannot 
be  formulated,  and  he  holds  that  we  have  this  indefi- 
nite consciousness  of  the  absolute.  He  says  all  of  the 
argument  presupposes  that  the  absolute  is  actual, 
that  it  is  a  reality,  and  adds:  "Clearly,  then,  the  very 
demonstration  that  a  definite  consciousness  of  the 

249 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

Absolute  is  impossible  to  us,  unavoidably  presup- 
poses an  indefinite  consciousness  of  it."  (Page  75.) 
This  doctrine  of  an  indefinite  consciousness  is  con- 
structed purely  ad  hoc  to  save  his  argument  from  its 
own  consequences.  It  represents  no  actual  facts  of  con- 
sciousness whatever.  A  consciousness  without  some 
definite  elements  is  something  which  in  no  way  admits 
of  being  experienced.  When  Mr.  Spencer  says  that 
when  all  attributes  have  been  abstracted  there  still 
remains  a  sense  of  something,  we  have  really  only 
the  bare  conception  of  subject  without  the  conditions 
of  its  meaning  anything  to  us.  Thus,  if  I  take  an  ob- 
ject and  abstract  from  it  its  experienced  properties,  I 
may  say  the  object  still  remains  after  the  products 
are  withdrawn,  but  in  truth  nothing  remains.  When 
I  am  dealing  with  some  objective  thing  I  may  pos- 
sibly fancy  that  at  least  objectivity  remains,  but  in 
truth  nothing  but  the  shadow  without  content  re- 
mains, the  ghost  of  an  object,  in  short.  I  have  the 
same  experience  when  I  take  a  conceptual  object, 
say  a  triangle,  and  lay  aside  the  various  attributes  of 
area,  triangularity,  three-sidedness,  etc.,  but  plainly 
it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  any  triangle 
remained  in  that  case.  And  the  same  thing  is  to 
be  said  of  Hamilton's  "wonderful  faith,"  by  means 
of  which  we  are  made  sure  of  existence  of  which  we 
can  form  no  conception.  This  wonderful  faith  has 
the  same  function  of  saving  the  argument  from  its 
own  consequences.  And  here  also  it  is  plain  that  when 
we  affirm  a  subject  of  which  no  conception  whatever 
can  be  formed,  of  which  every  conception  we  form  is 
declared  to  be  a  mere  negation,  the  affirmation  of 

250 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

such  subject  is  entirely  empty.  We  seem  to  say  some- 
thing, but  really  say  nothing.  Every  doctrine  of  un- 
knowability  meets  this  difficulty.  The  unknowable  I 
must  to  some  extent  be  brought  into  knowledge  or  ' 
else  compelled  to  go  out  of  existence.  This  is  the  case 
with  the  doctrine  of  Kant,  who  was  the  originator 
of  this  sort  of  thing.  Kant  maintained  that  the  cate- 
gories of  thought  are  relative  to  ourselves  and  do  not 
apply  to  reality  proper;  but  it  is  clear  that  with  this 
result  the  reality  vanishes  altogether.  If  all  the  cate- 
gories are  relative  to  us,  then  the  independent  reality 
is  neither  one  nor  many,  neither  substance  nor  attri- 
bute, neither  cause  nor  effect,  neither  real  nor  unreal, 
for  all  of  these  things  are  categories  and  hence  do  not 
apply  to  the  thing  in  itself.  What,  then,  is  this  truly 
real?  If  these  denials  are  to  be  taken  strictly  it  is  no- 
thing, either  subjective  or  objective.  It  is  neither  a 
thing  nor  a  thought;  it  is  only  a  verbal  phrase  to 
which  neither  reality  nor  conception  corresponds.  If 
we  relax  the  denial  sufficiently  to  bring  it  under  the 
general  head  of  existence,  even  then  no  positive 
thought  or  thing  remains.  We  have  only  the  pure 
category  of  being  "sustained  in  vacuo  by  the  imagin- 
ation." As  such  it  has  only  the  abstract  conceptual 
existence  of  class  terms,  and,  like  them,  is  objectively 
nothing.  The  unknowable  reality,  then,  vanishes, 
leaving  only  verbal  phrases  in  its  place. 

The  Unknowable,  then,  taken  absolutely  as  that 
of  which  no  positive  conception  can  be  formed,  is 
strictly  nothing,  and  moreover  no  one  has  ever  suc- 
ceeded in  so  taking  it.  Thus  Kant  had  no  doubt  that 
it  existed,  that  it  was  the  ground  of  phenomena,  and 

251 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

apparently  no  doubt  of  its  unity.  This  is  still  more 
the  case  with  Spencer,  who  declares  this  absolute  to 
be  one,  to  be  a  power,  to  be  eternal,  to  be  a  reality, 
and  in  all  of  these  categories  he  seems  to  have  great 
faith;  indeed,  he  goes  so  far  in  this  direction  as  to 
give  it  about  all  the  attributes  of  God  except  the 
personal  and  intellectual  ones.  Inconsistency  of  this 
kind  is  necessary  in  the  nature  of  the  case.  One  looks 
in  vain  for  anything  in  Mr.  Spencer's  argument  to 
prove  some  of  these  attributes.  Thus,  the  unknow- 
ability  of  the  real,  supposing  it  made  out,  in  no  way 
proves  that  the  real  is  one.  I  might  say  that  my  neigh- 
bors are  essentially  unknowable,  that  there  is  a  back- 
ground of  mystery  in  each  case  which  prevents  any 
absolute  knowledge  of  them.  But  this  fact  would 
not  warrant  me  in  saying  that  my  neighbors  are  one. 
Similarly  we  might  find  a  mystery  in  material  things 
and  might  affirm  that  we  should  never  be  able  to 
penetrate  that  mystery,  but  that  would  not  warrant 
us  in  saying  that  all  material  things  have  a  common 
ground.  In  this  monistic  affirmation,  however,  Mr. 
Spencer  takes  sides  against  all  pluralistic  systems 
and  makes  a  very  important  affirmation,  without, 
however,  giving  any  adequate  reasons,  if,  indeed,  he 
gives  any  reasons  at  all.  Similarly,  as  against  the  pos- 
itivists  or  mere  phenomenalists,  he  declares  this  be- 
ing to  be  a  reality  and  a  power.  He  calls  it  "the  infi- 
nite and  eternal  energy  on  which  all  things  depend  and 
from  which  all  things  forever  proceed."  Here  cer- 
tainly is  a  piece  of  important  information  respecting 
the  hidden  ground  of  things,  and  one  in  which  he 
by  no  means  agrees  with  all  philosophic  speculators. 

252 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

That  it  is  eternal  and  without  beginning  and  end  ap- 
pears from  many  a  passage  after  he  gets  clear  of  the 
Unknowable. 

Moreover,  this  Unknowable  is  introduced  as  the 
cause  of  phenomena.  They  forever  depend  upon  it 
and  proceed  from  it,  and  the  changes,  successions, 
and  likenesses  among  appearances  point  to  corres- 
ponding changes,  successions,  and  likenesses  among 
the  unknown  realities  or  within  the  Unknowable  it- 
self. In  that  case  we  bring  the  unconditioned  being 
into  fixed  relation  with  the  system  of  experience,  sub- 
ject it  to  time  and  change,  and  are  in  a  fair  way  to 
get  what  Mr.  Mill  called  "a  prodigious  amount  of 
knowledge  respecting  the  Unknowable."  This  neces- 
sity of  bringing  the  Unknowable  into  these  causal 
relations  makes  an  especial  difficulty  for  every  sys- 
tem of  this  kind.  If  the  Unknowable  is  not  brought 
into  such  relations,  it  is  of  absolutely  no  use  in  ex- 
plaining the  world  of  time  and  change;  but  if  it  be 
brought  into  such  relations,  then  we  necessarily  get 
some  information  respecting  it  from  the  order  of  re- 
lations which  it  founds  and  maintains. 

This  matter  of  the  Unknowable  has  been  so  con- 
fused ever  since  the  time  of  Kant  that  it  seems  worth 
while,  even  at  the  expense  of  some  repetition,  to  point 
out  once  more  the  emptiness  of  every  such  doctrine. 
All  philosophizing  must  begin  with  the  factsjofjexge- 
rience.  From  these  it  must  proceed  as  its  founda- 
tion and  to  these  it  must  return  for  its  justification. 
The  essential  aim  of  philosophy  is  to  give  an  account 
of  experience,  that  is,  to  rationalize  and  organize  expe- 
rience so  that  our  reason  may  get  some  insight  into 

253 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

it.  From  this  it  is  plain  that  we  never  can  affirm  any- 
thing whatever  unrelated  to  the  system  of  experience. 
For  if  we  should  do  so  it  would  thereby  become  worth- 
less for  its  proper  function.  As  soon,  then,  as  we  find 
ourselves  affirming  something  which  cannot  be  ra- 
tionally apprehended  and  understood,  we  are  going 
beyond  our  premises  and  affirming  something  essen- 
tially without  any  meaning.  Again,  as  soon  as  we 
affirm  something  that  cannot  be  brought  into  relation 
with  experience  as  its  dynamic  and  rational  explana- 
tion, it  is  manifest  that  that  something  loses  all  rea- 
son for  existence.  It  matters  not  what  we  call  this 
being  or  these  beings;  we  must  observe  that  whatever 
we  call  them  their  function  is  to  make  experience  in- 
telligible. And  when  they  will  not  do  this,  instead  of 
being  unknowable  they  are  rather  unaffirmable.  The 
application  of  this  principle  to  this  subject  would 
rule  out  the  whole  family  of  absolutes,  uncondi- 
tioneds,  and  infinities  which  have  wrought  such  con- 
fusion in  this  field.  They  can  only  be  regarded  as 
abstract  fictions  resulting  from  uncritical  thought. 
When,  then,  we  are  asked  if  the  absolute  can  be  a 
cause,  the  reply  is,  Any  absolute  that  is  not  a  cause 
is  fictitious.  When  we  are  asked,  Can  the  infinite 
coexist  with  the  finite?  the  reply  is,  Any  infinite  that 
cannot  coexist  with  the  finite  must  be  dismissed  as 
a  fiction.  The  thing  which  must  go  in  all  such  cases 
is  the  verbal  abstraction  of  the  speculator. 

The  same  general  principle  has  a  bearing  upon 
the  question  of  the  Unknowable  from  another  point 
of  view.  It  is  commonly  said  that  we  know  only  phe- 
nomena, and  it  is  assumed  that  these  phenomena  are 

254 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

simply  appearances  which  do  not  rightly  represent 
the  real.  In  all  of  this  there  is  a  tacit  reference  to  the 
appearances  of  vision.  It  is  a  familiar  experience 
that  visual  phenomena  are  somewhat  irregular  and 
often  distort  the  object.  Thus  a  straight  stick  stand- 
ing in  the  water  looks  bent.  A  pair  of  colored  glasses 
lends  its  own  color  to  the  object.  If  one  looks  at  his 
face  in  the  bowl  of  a  spoon  it  is  lengthened  out  por- 
tentously. If  he  looks  at  his  face  in  the  back  of  a 
spoon  it  is  correspondingly  broadened.  Facts  of  this 
kind,  all  of  which  are  connected  with  the  visual  sense, 
suggest  the  thought  that  all  phenomena  may  in  the 
same  way  fail  to  give  a  correct  view  of  things.  But 
all  of  this  overlooks  the  fact  that  the  chief  way  of 
knowing  things  is  not  through  their  appearances,  but 
through  their  effects.  In  such  cases  there  is  no  ques- 
tion of  looking  at  things,  but  rather  one  of  finding  the 
nature  of  things  through  their  products  and  activi- 
ties. Thus  the  soul  is  not  known  by  the  way  it  looks, 
for  it  does  not  look  at  all.  It  is  rather  the  invisible 
personality  living,  experiencing  itself  in  various  ways 
and  putting  forth  various  activities,  and  in  and 
through  these  the  soul  is  known.  In  the  same  way  the 
forces  of  nature,  supposing  them  to  exist,  would  be 
known  through  the  forms  and  laws  of  their  activity. 
Gravitation  would  be  known  in  this  way,  and  also 
chemical  affinity,  electricity,  etc.;  and,  as  we  before 
said,  no  agnostic  has  ever  succeeded  in  separating  his 
unknowable  from  the  order  of  experience  to  this  ex- 
tent, because  as  soon  as  it  is  thus  separated  it  be- 
comes entirely  worthless.  Kant  could  not  keep  his 
things-in-themselves  entirely  free  from  experience, 

255 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

!/•> 
/and  Mr.  Spencer,  likewise,  in  Part  Second  at  last 

tells  us  that  the  coexistences  and  sequences  in  expe- 
V  rience  point  to  coexistences  and  sequences  in  the  fun- 
damental reality,  thus  giving  a  basis  for  Mr.  Mill's 
remark,  before  quoted,  that  in  this  way  we  seem 
likely  to  get  a  "prodigious  amount  of  knowledge 
respecting  the  Unknowable." 

Thus  the  doctrine  of  the  Unknowable  appears  as 
doubly  useless.  We  see  that  when  all  predication  is 
rejected  we  no  longer  have  any  conception  whatever. 
Nothing  remains  but  the  ghost  of  a  vanished  subject, 
which,  with  Spencer,  we  may  call  an  indefinite  con- 
sciousness, or,  with  Hamilton,  the  revelation  of  a 
wonderful  faith.  And  when  we  attempt  to  use  our 
Unknowable  as  an  explanation  of  the  world  of  expe- 
rience, it  at  once  becomes  worthless  unless  we  are 
permitted  to  bring  it  into  definite  relations  which 
reveal  to  some  extent  its  nature  and  character. 

It  is  plain  that  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine  of  the  Un- 
knowable leaves  us  in  great  uncertainty.  What  is  the 
Unknowable?  It  is  "the  real  as  distinguished  from  the 
phenomenal."  It  is  the  "actual,"  in  opposition  to 
the  "apparent."  It  is  the  "fundamental  reality,"  it 
is  noumena  in  whatever  realm.  He  affirms  that  the 
ideas  of  first  cause,  absolute,  the  infinite,  space,  time, 
matter,  motion,  force,  and  conscious  mind,  are  all  un- 
thinkable. Then  theology,  physics,  and  psychology 
are  all  impossible.  Even  mathematics,  the  science 
of  pure  space,  time,  and  motion,  is  also  impossible. 
This  is  pure  skepticism,  and  we  are  curious  to  see 
what  Spencer  is  going  to  make  of  it.  He  insists  upon 
the  full  conclusion  with  reference  to  religion.  We  are 

256 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

not  to  think  of  God  at  all  except  as  the  omnipresent 
mystery.  We  are  not  to  affirm  reason,  consciousness, 
intelligence,  least  of  all  personality,  of  it.  Mr.  Mansel 
had  insisted  upon  a  regulative  theology.  We  cannot 
conceive  God,  he  said,  to  be  personal  and  intelligent, 
but  we  must  think  of  Him  as  such.  This  notion 
Spencer  repudiates  with  some  warmth,  and  declares 
that  if  there  be  truth  in  the  argument  it  is  not  our 
duty  to  say  anything  about  God.  But  we  must  add, 
it  is  equally  not  our  duty  to  say  anything  about  real- 
ity at  all,  because  not  merely  religious  realities,  but 
also  scientific  realities  are  remanded  to^the  realm  of 
impenetrable  mystery  where  no  thought  whatever  is 
possible.  But  Spencer  has  a  plan  for  rehabilitating 
science,  and  it  is  interesting  to  note  how  it  is  done. 
By  the  logic  of  his  argument  science  has  no  real  appre- 
hension of  objective  reality,  and  nothing  remains  but 
positivistic  registration  of  the  orders  of  coexistence 
and  sequence  among  phenomena.  However,  Mr. 
Spencer  was  not  a  positivist,  and  regarded  phenom- 
enalism as  inadequate,  if  not  erroneous.  Accordingly, 
he  proceeds  to  make  a  place  for  science  as  something 
more  than  such  mere  description  and  registration  of 
the  phenomenal  order.  The  first  move  is  to  postulate 
an  indefinite  consciousness  of  the  absolute  and  to  de- 
clare that  it  is  the  most  positive  factor  of  thought. 
We  can  only  know  of  the  real,  that  it  is.  All  other 
knowledge  is  of  appearance.  But  these  appearances 
force  us  to  admit  a  reality  back  of  them  as  their  cause. 
We  can  even,  by  means  of  these  appearances,  get  some 
insight  into  the  realities  themselves,  for  the  changes 
and  successions  and  likenesses  among  appearances 

257 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

point  to  changes,  likenesses,  etc.,  among  reality.  This 
we  get  at  by  common  sense,  and  are  next  helped  by  a 
new  notion,  which  appears  early  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
knowable,  that  of  relative  realities.  These  relative 
realities  are  simply  things  in  the  common-sense  mean- 
ing. They  are  declared  to  be  constant  effects  of  the 
unconditioned  cause  and  to  stand  in  indissoluble  con- 
nection with  it,  and  being  equally  persistent  with  it 
are  equally  real.  Thus  the  common-sense  view  of 
things  is  fairly  being  reinstated,  but  with  a  drawback; 
reality  is  defined  to  be  persistence  in  consciousness. 
So,  then,  first,  nothing  is  knowable  except  appear- 
ances; second,  appearances  suggest  realities;  third, 
changes  in  appearances  point  to  corresponding 
changes  in  reality;  fourth,  suddenly  reality  becomes 
double,  absolute  and  relative,  and  these  two  are  in 
constant  relation;  and  fifth,  reality  changes  its  char- 
acter and  is  declared  to  be  persistence  in  conscious- 
ness. If  his  reasoning  be  sound,  then  we  have  only  a 
regulative  physics.  In  the  discussion  of  the  Unknow- 
able he  declares  space,  time,  matter,  motion,  and 
force  to  be  impossible  ideas,  but  in  the  discussion  of 
the  knowable  we  have  the  same  ideas  made  the  basis 
of  his  system,  and  we  are  told  that  our  ideas  on  these 
same  subjects  stand  in  indissoluble  connection  with 
reality  and  are  just  as  good  and  real  as  the  real  itself. 
But  if  this  process  is  possible  with  the  impossible  ideas 
of  science,  it  seems  it  might  be  equally  possible  with 
the  no  more  impossible  ideas  of  religion.  If  a  valid 
physics  is  possible  in  spite  of  our  ignorance  of  the 
Unknowable,  why  is  not  a  valid  theology  equally 
possible?  Let  us  grant  that  our  knowledge  is  all 

258 


THE  RELATIVITY  OF  ALL  KNOWLEDGE 

symbolic;  still  the  question  arises,  How  do  we  know 
that  mechanical  and  material  symbols  better  repre- 
sent the  fact  than  spiritual  and  intellectual  symbols? 
If  it  be  said  that  none  of  our  symbols  at  all  represent 
the  fact,  then  physical  science  is  a  pure  delusion;  but 
if  it  be  allowed  that  thought  symbols  more  or  less  well 
represent  the  fact,  then  we  must  know  which  does  it 
best.  Shall  we  be  further  from  the  fact  when  we  think 
of  the  Unknowable  as  a  blind  mechanical  force  or  as 
a  conscious  and  free  spirit?  Here  is  the  dilemma.  If 
the  Unknowable  be  strictly  unknowable,  so  that  it 
cannot  in  any  way  be  symbolized,  then  we  must  all 
keep  the  peace;  but  if  the  scientist  may  build  up  a 
valid  physics  on  the  basis  of  symbolical  knowledge, 
there  is  no  reason  why  the  theologian  also  should  not 
be  allowed  to  speak.  Pressed  by  these  difficulties 
many  of  Spencer's  friends  have  claimed  that  by  Un- 
knowable he  does  not  mean  strictly  unknowable,  but 
only  incomprehensible.  We  reply,  first,  that  this 
would  make  it  a  mere  truism  without  the  slightest 
importance  and  consequence.  When  dealing  with  the 
theologians  he  tells  what  he  means  by  the  Unknow- 
able by  forbidding  any  attribution  whatever,  and 
any  other  view  he  regards  as  showing  the  impiety  of 
the  pious.  Nevertheless,  as  already  pointed  out,  he 
makes  many  attributions.  For  example,  it  is  one  and 
not  many,  thus  denying  all  dualistic  and  pluralistic 
theories.  It  is  the  real  as  opposed  to  the  apparent, 
thus  cutting  off  phenomenalism.  It  is  a  power  and  the 
fundamental  cause.  It  is  persistent  and  indestruct- 
ible. It  is  omnipresent  in  space  and  time.  Surely  here 
is  an  embarrassing  richness  of  affirmation  about  that 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

of  which  we  are  forbidden  to  affirm  anything.  If  we 
are  allowed  to  say  so  much,  there  seems  no  reason  why 
we  should  not  be  allowed  to  go  one  step  further  and 
affirm  even  intelligence  if  the  facts  call  for  it. 

We  shall  return  to  this  matter  later  when  discussing 
the  Knowable,  but  here  it  suffices  to  point  out  that 
the  Unknowable  is  a  very  uncertain  quantity  in  Mr. 
Spencer's  thinking,  and  moreover  is  full  of  contradic- 
tion. 

Doctrine  of  Religion 

"The  last  chapter  of  the  discussion  of  the  Unknow-  \ 
able  is  the  reconciliation  of  science  and  religion,  and/ 
the  conclusion  to  which  Mr.  Spencer  comes  is  this: 
A  permanent  peace  between  the  two  will  be  reached 
when  science  becomes  convinced  that  its  explanations 
are  approximate  and  relative,  while  religion  becomes 
fully  convinced  that  the  mystery  it  contemplates  is 
ultimate  and  absolute.  There  is,  then,  a  field  of  know- 
ledge and  this  belongs  to  science,  and  there  is  a  realm 
of  mystery  and  this  belongs  to  religion.  The  short- 
coming of  religion  has  been  that  it  has  sought  to  bring 
the  absolute  into  the  forms  of  finite  thought,  and  the 
shortcoming  of  science  is  that  it  has  failed  to  recog- 
nize that  its  explanations  remain  on  the  surface,  while 
a  great  depth  of  mystery  must  forever  underlie  it. 
Mr.  Spencer  rebukes  Mr.  Mansel  for  having  held  that 
it  is  our  duty  to  think  of  God  as  personal  and  to  be- 
lieve that  He  is  infinite.  He  also  says  that  "volumes 
might  be  written  upon  the  impiety  of  the  pious." 
This  impiety  consists  essentially  in  trying  to  think 
of  God  under  the  forms  of  our  thought,  instead  rather 

260 


DOCTRINE  OF  RELIGION 

of  recognizing  the  limitations  of  our  faculties  and  re- 
maining in  utter  silence  and  emptiness  of  thought 
before  it.  In  a  single  passage,  however,  he  seems 
almost  to  recognize  the  necessity  of  something  like 
Mr.  ManseFs  regulative  theology.  He  says:  "Very 
likely  there  will  ever  remain  a  need  to  give  shape  to 
that  indefinite  sense  of  an  Ultimate  Existence,  which 
forms  the  basis  of  our  intelligence.  We  shall  always 
be  under  the  necessity  of  contemplating  it  as  some 
mode  of  being;  that  is,  of  representing  it  to  ourselves 
in  some  form  of  thought,  however  vague.  And  we 
shall  not  err  in  doing  this  so  long  as  we  treat  every 
notion  we  thus  frame  as  merely  a  symbol."  (Page 
96.)  Here  we  seem  permitted  to  form  conceptions 
which,  while  inadequate,  are  nevertheless  useful, 
playing  their  part  in  the  life  both  of  the  individual 
and  of  the  community.  At  the  same  time  we  are  to 
recognize  that  these  conceptions  are  not  merely  inad- 
equate, but  strictly  unthinkable  when  carried  out  into 
their  implications.  The  conception  of  God  as  having 
plans  and  purposes  in  nature  and  as  creating  is  re- 
jected with  some  contempt,  and  we  are  recommended 
to  cultivate  reverence  by  refraining  from  affirmation 
of  this  kind.  He  says:  "The  attitude  thus  assumed 
can  be  fitly  represented  only  by  further  developing  a 
simile  long  current  in  theological  controversies  —  the 
simile  of  the  watch.  If,  for  a  moment,  we  made  the 
grotesque  supposition  that  the  tickings  and  other 
movements  of  a  watch  constituted  a  kind  of  con- 
sciousness; and  that  a  watch,  possessed  of  such  a  con- 
sciousness, insisted  on  regarding  the  watchmaker's 
actions  as  determined  like  its  own  by  springs  and 

261 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

escapements;  we  should  simply  complete  a  parallel  of 
which  religious  teachers  think  much.  And  were  we 
to  suppose  that  a  watch  not  only  formulated  the 
cause  of  its  existence  in  these  mechanical  terms,  but 
held  that  watches  were  bound  out  of  reverence  so  to 
formulate  this  cause,  and  even  vituperated,  as  athe- 
istic watches,  any  that  did  not  venture  so  to  formu- 
late it;  we  should  merely  illustrate  the  presumption 
of  theologians  by  carrying  their  own  argument  a 
step  further."  (Page  94.)  It  seems  sufficient  to  say 
in  reply  to  this  that  no  religious  person  really  ever 
thinks  of  his  own  conceptions  of  God  as  adequate, 
or  as  being  other  than  symbolic  or  as  adumbrations 
of  the  truth.  We  should  quite  agree  with  Mr.  Spencer 
that  a  spiritual  anthropomorphism  easily  passes  into 
irreverence  and  is  to  be  avoided;  but  it  is  equally 
plain  that  if  we  are  to  think  at  all  we  must  think  in 
terms  which  our  own  experience  makes  possible.  All 
terms  are  in  some  sense  symbolic,  but  yet  there  may 
be  a  choice  among  symbols.  The  personal  and  spirit- 
ual symbols  may  bring  us  nearer  the  truth  than  the 
material  and  mechanical  symbols.  Mr.  Spencer  says 
there  may  well  be  existence  as  far  beyond  mind  and 
intellect  as  these  are  beyond  matter  and  mechanism, 
and  seems  to  suggest  that  the  alternative  is  not  be- 
tween mind  and  something  lower,  but  rather  between 
mind  and  something  higher.  But  it  is  plain  that  this 
something  higher  is  only  a  form  of  words  without  any 
positive  content.  All  that  results  is  the  exhortation 
not  to  take  our  symbols  of  whatever  kind  in  too  hard 
and  fast  a  way,  yet  plainly  we  shall  do  our  best  when 
we  think  in  terms  of  the  highest  symbols  and  not  in 


DOCTRINE  OF  RELIGION 

tX 

terms  of  the  lowest.  And  as  to  the  watch  referred  to, 
it  is  curious  that  Mr.  Spencer  should  have  failed  to 
see  how  much  better  logic  the  watch  ticked  out  than 
he  himself  has  done;  for  the  argument  from  the  watch 
is  from  intelligible  purpose  in  the  watch  to  intelligence 
in  its  maker,  not  to  springs  and  escapements,  wheels 
and  levers  in  its  maker,  but  to  thought  and  purpose. 
If,  then,  the  watch  had  concluded  not  to  wheels  and 
levers,  but  to  an  intelligent  maker,  it  would  seem  to 
have  been  quite  as  near  the  truth  as  it  would  if,  hav- 
ing taken  a  course  in  the  Unknowable,  it  had  decided 
that  the  thought  of  an  intelligent  maker  was  irrever- 
ent and  impious,  and  that  its  true  ground  was  an 
unknowable  something  beyond  all  thought  and  under- 
standing. 

In  general,  Mr.  Spencer  seeksjtojbase  religion  on 
pure  and  utter  mystery.  Religion  is  to  say  nothing 
and  think  nothing  beyond  the  recognition  of  mystery, 
pure  and  impenetrable.  This  is  really  one  of  the  most 
extraordinary  utterances  in  the  history  of  philosophy. 
That  there  must  be  an  element  of  mystery  in  religion 
is  of  course  beyond  all  question,  but  religion  with  no 
element  of  knowledge  whatever  is  impossible  to  any 
intelligent  being.  A  famous  controversy  between  Mr. 
Spencer  and  Frederic  Harrison  on  this  topic  broke 
out  in  the  "Nineteenth  Century"  in  1884.  "To  make 
a  religion  out  of  the  Unknowable,"  Mr.  Harrison 
said,  "  is  far  more  extravagant  than  to  make  it  out  of 
the  Equator,  for  we  know  something  of  the  Equator. 
It  means  much  for  sailors,  geographers,  astronomers, 
and  has  great  significance  for  tropical  life;  but  respect- 
ing the  Unknowable  our  minds  are  a  blank.  We  can 

263 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

only  stare  in  empty  wonder."  This  criticism  is  clearly 
correct.  If  we  take  our  agnosticism  seriously,  the 
Unknowable  is  for  our  thought  pure  mystery  and 
negation.  At  best  it  is  an  infinite,  at  which  we  can 
only  stare.  The  only  religion  possible  on  this  basis  is 
the  recognition  of  mystery  and  perhaps  some  emotion 
of  wonder,  a  relation  that  would  be  entirely  possible 
with  the  law  of  gravitation.  Actual  religion  has 
always  implied  more  than  mere  mystery.  It  has 
rooted  permanently  in  our  sense  of  need  and  depend- 
ence, as  Schleiermacher  pointed  out,  and  also  in  the 
needs  and  aspirations  of  our  entire  humanity.  It  has 
been  our  good  refuge  against  the  shortcomings  of  the 
present  life  and  our  great  source  of  inspiration  and 
aspiration.  It  has  issued  in  great  systems  of  belief, 
worship,  and  conduct,  and  no  actual  religion  is  with- 
out these.  Now,  the  religion  of  the  Unknowable  has 
none  of  these.  The  creed  is  very  short:  I  believe  that 
nothing  can  be  known  about  the  fundamental  reality. 
It  has  no  worship,  for  how  can  one  worship  a  mental 
vacuum?  It  has  no  relation  to  conduct.  We  cannot 
connect  it  with  life  in  any  way  for  our  guidance  or 
inspiration.  It  furnishes  no  bond  for  social  union  and 
essential  aims.  Alike  for  the  individual  and  society 
it  is  empty  and  barren.  We  might  trust  in  the  Lord, 
but  who  could  trust  in  the  Unknowable  or  pray  to  it 
or  worship  it,  or  be  grateful  to  it  or  desire  to  be 
conformed  to  it?  As  Mr.  Harrison  says,  "A  religion 
which  could  not  make  any  one  any  better,  which 
would  leave  the  human  heart  and  human  society  just 
as  it  found  them,  which  left  no  foothold  for  devo- 
tion and  none  for  faith;  which  could  have  no  creed, 

264 


DOCTRINE  OF  RELIGION 

no  doctrines,  no  temples,  no  priests,  no  teachers,  no 
rites,  no  morality,  no  beauty,  no  hope,  no  consola- 
tion; which  is  summed  up  in  one  dogma,  —  the  Un- 
knowable is  everywhere  and  Evolution  is  its  prophet 
-  this  is  indeed  to  "defecate  religion  to  a  pure  trans- 
parency.' ...  A  religion  without  anything  to  be 
known,  with  nothing  to  teach,  with  no  moral  power, 
with  some  rags  of  religious  sentiment  surviving, 
mainly  in  a  consciousness  of  mystery,  —  this  is  in- 
deed the  mockery  of  religion." 

These  points  are  well  taken.  The  worship  at  the 
altar  of  the  Unknowable  would  certainly  have  to  be 
mainly  of  the  silent  sort.  It  is  a  matter  of  psycholog- 
ical curiosity  to  know  how  such  a  view  ever  became 
acceptable  to  any  one.  In  the  case  of  its  author  there 
would  seem  to  have  been  an  atrophy  of  the  spiritual 
nature  or  an  original  lack  of  religious  insight  and 
interest.  He  says  in  his  "Autobiography " :  " Memory 
does  not  tell  me  the  extent  of  my  divergence  from 
current  beliefs.  There  had  not  taken  place  any  pro- 
nounced rejection  of  them,  but  they  were  slowly  los- 
ing their  hold.  Their  hold  had,  indeed,  never  been 
very  decided:  'the  creed  of  Christendom'  being  evi- 
dently alien  to  my  nature,  both  emotional  and  intel- 
lectual. To  many,  and  apparently  to  most,  religious 
worship  yields  a  species  of  pleasure.  To  me  it  never 
did  so;  unless,  indeed,  I  count  as  such  the  emotion 
produced  by  sacred  music.  A  sense  of  combined 
grandeur  and  sweetness  excited  by  an  anthem,  with 
organ  and  cathedral  architecture  to  suggest  the  idea 
of  power,  was  then,  and  always  has  been,  strong  in  me 
—  as  strong,  probably,  as  in  most  —  stronger  than  in 

265 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

many.  But  the  expressions  of  adoration  of  a  personal 
being,  the  utterance  of  laudations,  and  the  humble 
professions  of  obedience,  never  found  in  me  any 
echoes.  Hence,  when  left  to  myself,  as  at  Worcester 
and  previously  in  London,  I  spent  my  Sundays  either 
in  reading  or  in  country  walks."  (Vol.  i,  p.  171.) 
In  the  case  of  his  more  religious  disciples  the  accept- 
ance of  this  view  seems  due  to  carelessness  and  lack 
of  thought,  because  of  which  religious  sounding 
phrases  were  taken  for  religious  sense.  When  there- 
fore they  hear  religion  accorded  the  high  merit  of 
dimly  discerning  from  the  beginning  the  ultimate 
verity,  and  never  ceasing  to  insist  upon  it,  they  sup- 
pose it  means  religion  in  their  sense  and  not  the  blank 
negation  of  Mr.  Spencer's  system.  In  this  respect 
they  are  like  the  disciples  of  Spinoza,  who  were  led 
by  Spinoza's  use  of  terminology  to  overlook  the  fact 
that  when  he  said  God  he  meant  nature. 

The  Unknowable,  then,  as  the  subject  of  religion, 
can  do  nothing  for  us  so  long  as  we  keep  our  thought 
tolerably  clear.  We  might  make  a  shift  to  get  along 
without  any  religion,  but  we  are  not  willing  to  be 
mocked  with  the  ghost  of  religion. 

Mr.  Spencer  seems  to  have  been  of  a  rather  cheer- 
ful opinion  as  to  the  value  of  his  advanced  thought 
until  the  end,  then  some  doubts  began  to  invade.  The 
following  paragraph  in  his  "Autobiography"  shows 
a  suspicion  that  religion  is  a  more  important  matter 
practically  and  socially  than  he  had  originally  sus- 
pected. He  says:  — 

"Less  marked,  perhaps,  though  still  sufficiently 
marked,  is  a  modification  in  my  ideas  about  religious 

266 


DOCTRINE  OF  RELIGION 

institutions,  which,  indicated  in'my  later  books,  has 
continued  to  grow  more  decided.  While  the  current 
creed  was  slowly  losing  its  hold  on  me,  the  sole  ques- 
tion seemed  to  be  the  truth  or  untruth  of  the  particu- 
lar doctrines  I  had  been  taught.  But  gradually,  and 
especially  of  late  years,  I  have  become  aware  that  this 
is  not  the  sole  question. 

"Partly,  the  wider  knowledge  obtained  of  human 
societies  has  caused  this.  Many  have,  I  believe,  re- 
cognized the  fact  that  a  cult  of  some  sort,  with  its  social 
embodiment,  is  a  constituent  in  every  society  which 
has  made  any  progress;  and  this  has  led  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  control  exercised  over  men's  conduct  by 
theological  beliefs  and  priestly  agency,  has  been  indis- 
pensable. The  masses  of  evidence  classified  and  ar- 
ranged in  the  Descriptive  Sociology  have  forced  this 
belief  upon  me  independently:  if  not  against  my  will, 
still  without  any  desire  to  entertain  it.  So  conspicu- 
ous are  the  proofs  that  among  unallied  races  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  globe,  progress  in  civilization  has  gone 
along  with  development  of  a  religious  system,  absolute 
in  its  dogmas  and  terrible  in  its  threatened  penalties, 
administered  by  a  powerful  priesthood,  that  there 
seems  no  escape  from  the  inference  that  the  main- 
tenance of  social  subordination  has  peremptorily  re- 
quired the  aid  of  some  such  agency."  (Vol.  n,  p.  544.) 

Throughout  the  chapter  on  the  reconciliation  of 
science  and  religion  Mr.  Spencer  often  seems  to  be  on 
the  point  of  recognizing  a  relative  religion  and  even  a 
relative  theology,  that  is,  the  doctrines  which  are  in- 
adequate to  the  reality,  but  yet  are  more  or  less  valu- 
able symbols  or  adumbrations  of  the  same.  In  the 

267 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

passage  just  quoted,  religion  and  even  theology  seem 
to  be  recognized  as  important  elements  in  the  devel- 
opment of  society.  It  would  certainly  be  strange  to 
introduce  a  factor  of  distinct  error  into  social  progress 
as  something  necessary  to  it.  But  in  other  parts  of 
the  same  chapter  Mr.  Spencer,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
very  strenuous  against  any  affirmation  whatever  re- 
specting the  unknown  cause.  Had  he  retained  and 
developed  the  former  position  he  would  have  been  in 
close  harmony  with  all  Christian  theologies  of  the 
better  class,  who  have  always  maintained  that  our 
conceptions  of  the  divine  order  are  inadequate,  and 
while  they  have  affirmed  an  element  of  knowledge 
have  also  affirmed  an  element  of  mystery.  God's  ways 
are  not  as  our  ways  nor  his  thoughts  as  our  thoughts; 
for  as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the  earth,  so  are  his 
ways  higher  than  our  ways  and  his  thoughts  than  our 
thoughts.  But  Mr.  Spencer  did  not  hold  this  possible 
view  with  any  certainty  or  consistency,  but  in  the 
main  gave  the  impression  that  when  thought  was  per- 
fectly clear  there  is  nothing  left  but  mystery.  This  has 
certainly  been  the  understanding  of  the  great  major- 
ity of  his  critics,  and  moreover  it  seems  to  be  the  view 
to  which  he  himself  came  toward  the  end.  In  a  little 
work  published  the  last  of  all,  entitled  "Facts  and 
Comments,"  there  is  a  chapter,  "What  Should  the 
Skeptic  Say  to  Believers?"  Here  it  appears  that  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Agnosticism  is  a  dangerous  drug  which 
is  not  rashly  to  be  administered.  "The  prospect  of 
heaven  makes  life  tolerable  to  many  who  would  else 
find  it  intolerable.  In  some  whose  shattered  constitu- 
tions and  perpetual  pains,  caused  perhaps  by  undue 


DOCTRINE  OF  RELIGION 

efforts  for  the  benefit  of  dependents,  the  daily  thought 
of  a  compensating  future  is  the  sole  assuaging  con- 
sciousness. .  .  .  And  there  are  many  who  stagger 
on  under  the  exhausting  burden  of  daily  duties, 
fulfilled  without  thanks  and  without  sympathy,  who 
are  enabled  to  bear  their  ills  by  the  conviction  that 
after  this  life  will  come  a  life  free  from  pains  and 
weariness.  Nothing  but  evil  can  follow  a  change  in 
the  creed  of  such;  and  unless  cruelly  thoughtless  the 
Agnostic  will  carefully  shun  discussion  of  religious 
subjects  with  them."  (Pages  285-86.)  \ 

This  quotation  shows  a  deeper  insight  than  appears\ 
in  much  of  Mr.  Spencer's  writings.  It  also  shows  the 
embarrassment  and  helplessness  of  religious  agnosti- 
cism in  the  face  of  life's  tragedies  and  woes.  No  one/ 
would  have  the  heart  to  say  to  these  sufferers  and 
burden-bearers,  Think  on  the  Unknowable,  lift  your 
hearts  to  the  "great  enigma,"  cast  your  burdens  on 
the  inscrutable.  No !  They  must  be  left  to  the  cruder 
notions  of  Moses  and  the  Prophets  and  the  Man  of 
Nazareth.  And  seeing  that  these  notions,  also  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Spencer,  have  been  wrought  out  in  us  by 
the  Unknown  Cause,  we  feel  justified  in  holding  on  to 
them  until  we  find  something  better.  .That^LQmetbieg  } 
we  do  not  find  in  the  religion  of  the  Unknowable. 

A  single  paragraph  at  the  close  of  this  chapter  is  in- 
teresting in  many  ways.  Mr.  Spencer  has  pointed  out 
that  some  form  of  religious  conception  is  likely  long 
to  be  necessary  for  those  who  need  it,  and  that  this 
form  may  very  possibly  be  better  adjusted  to  them 
than  the  higher  interest  which  he  aims  to  reach. 
This  leads  him  to  raise  the  question  whether  in  that 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

case  we  should  not  leave  these  believers  to  their  own 
view,  instead  of  disturbing  them  by  the  reflections 
which  come  from  a  more  profound  criticism.  He  con- 
cludes, however,  that  the  advanced  thinker  who  is 
possessed  of  the  highest  truth  should  not  fail  to  ex- 
press his  views.  He  says:  "It  is  not  for  nothing  that 
he  has  in  him  these  sympathies  with  some  principles 
and  repugnance  to  others.  He,  with  all  his  capacities, 
and  aspirations,  and  beliefs,  is  not  an  accident  but  a 
product  of  the  time.  While  he  is  a  descendant  of  the 
past,  he  is  a  parent  of  the  future:  and  his  thoughts  are 
as  children  born  to  him  which  he  may  not  carelessly 
let  die.  Like  every  other  man  he  may  properly  con- 
sider himself  as  one  of  the  myriad  agencies  through 
whom  works  the  Unknown  Cause;  and  when  the  Un- 
known Cause  produces  in  him  a  certain  belief,  he  is 
thereby  authorized  to  profess  and  act  out  that  belief." 
(Page  105.)  This  seems  clear  and  convincing  and 
comforting.  Mr.  Spencer  has  before  recognized  the 
needs  of  those  who  are  on  lower  planes  of  thought,  but 
here  he  also  vindicates  the  rights  of  the  highest  and 
most  advanced  thinkers.  The  rights  of  free  thought 
are  vindicated  and  are  set  on  high  beyond  all  cavil; 
and  yet  the  utterance  is  a  little  confusing  when  we  re- 
member that  Mr.  Spencer  expressly  includes  all  other 
men  and  all  other  beliefs  in  the  same  relation,  and 
gives  to  them  all  the  same  sanction  and  authorization 
of  the  Unknown  Cause.  Forthwith  we  begin  to  grope, 
for  it  is  not  the  advanced  thinker  only  who  stands  in 
this  august  relation  and  has  this  supreme  sanction, 
but  "every  other  man"  also  "may  truly  consider 
himself  as  one  of  the  myriad  agencies  through  whom 

270 


DOCTRINE  OF  RELIGION 

works  the  Unknown  Cause;  and  when  the  Unknown 
Cause  produces  in  him  a  certain  belief,  he  is  thereby 
authorized  to  profess  and  act  out  that  belief."  But 
it  is  plain  that  every  other  man  is  a  somewhat  nu- 
merous personage,  and  his  beliefs  and  acts,  pro- 
duced and  authorized  by  the  Unknown  Cause,  are  a 
rather  heterogeneous  and  unsavory  collection,  for  it 
includes  all  the  superstitions,  absurdities,  and  imbe- 
cilities which  have  ever  been  believed  and  all  the  hor- 
rors and  atrocities  which  have  ever  been  perpetrated. 
All  of  these  are  the  products  of  the  Unknown  Cause, 
and  the  believers  are  of  course  authorized  to  profess, 
and  act  out  their  beliefs,  for  all  these  are  "as  children 
born  to  them  which  they  may  not  carelessly  let  die." 
But  what  is  truth  in  such  a  system?  The  Unknown 
Cause  seems  to  have  not  one  opinion,  but  many,  and 
does  not  abide  in  any  one  for  long.  For  a  disciple  of 
this  view  it  must  be  a  very  grave  circumstance  that 
the  Unknown  Cause  has  produced  a  great  many  false 
opinions  for  one  true  one,  that  along  with  a  little  truth 
there  has  been  a  most  overwhelming  production  of 
error.  The  Unknown  Cause  has  shown  a  grotesque 
tendency  to  revel  in  low  and  unsavory  views,  fetish- 
isms,  anthropomorphisms,  theologies,  whims,  infatu- 
ations, obstinacies,  instead  of  tending  to  the  sun-clear 
truths  of  a  synthetic  philosophy.  This  fact  has  so  im- 
pressed many  critics  of  a  pessimistic  turn  that  they 
have  not  hesitated  to  think  meanly  of  the  Unknown 
Cause  and  all  its  works.  In  any  case,  it  is  clear  that  up 
to  date  the  Unknown  Cause  has  not  advanced  be- 
yond an  indefinite,  incoherent  heterogeneity  of  opin- 
ions, every  one  of  which  has  the  same  source  and  sanc- 

271 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

tion  as  any  other.  Who  would  have  thought  that  so 
much  absurdity  lay  concealed  in  Mr.  Spencer's  en- 
couragement of  the  advanced  thinker!  If  we  adopt 
this  view  clearly,  as  already  suggested,  we  may  retain 
our  Christian  theology  without  being  ashamed  of  our 
faith,  for  that  theology  has  been  wrought  out  in  us 
by  the  Unknown  Cause  and  we  are  thereby  author- 
ized to  profess  and  act  it  out.  Nothing  has  a  higher 
sanction  than  this. 

It  is  plain  that  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine  of  Agnosti- 
cism has  much  inconsistency  in  it.  His  more  thought- 
ful disciples  long  ago  found  fault  with  it  and  were 
rather  desirous  of  repudiating  it.  Mr.  Spencer  him- 
self, in  the  last  edition  of  his  "First  Principles,"  seeks 
to  reply  to  his  critics  in  a  general  way,  especially  to 
the  claim  that  a  strictly  Unknowable  cannot  be  af- 
firmed. The  reply  consists,  in  effect,  in  reemphasiz- 
ing  the  notion  of  an  indefinite  consciousness  which  we 
must  affirm,  but  which  we  cannot  further  define.  This 
notion  has  already  been  considered.  If  this  indefinite 
consciousness  eluded  all  affirmation,  it  would  equally 
elude  all  existence.  When  affirmation  is  emptied  out 
of  a  thought-state,  there  is  really  nothing  left,  definite 
or  indefinite. 

But  a  more  instructive  admission  is  the  declaration 
that  the  doctrine  set  forth  in  Part  First  has  no  bearing 
upon  the  doctrine  next  to  be  unfolded  in  Part  Second 
or  in  his  "Doctrine  of  Science."  He  says,  "But  now 
let  it  be  understood  that  the  reader  is  not  called  on  to 
judge  respecting  any  of  the  arguments  or  conclusions 
contained  in  the  foregoing  five  chapters  and  in  the 
above  paragraphs.  The  subjects  on  which  we  are 

272 


DOCTRINE  OF  RELIGION 

about  to  enter  are  independent  of  the  subjects  thus 
far  discussed;  and  he  may  reject  any  or  all  of  that 
which  has  gone  before,  while  leaving  himself  free  to 
accept  any  or  all  of  that  which  is  now  to  come." 
(Page  109.) 

It  seems,  then,  that  according  to  Mr.  Spencer  this 
opening  discussion  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  doc- 
trine of  science,  to  which  he  now  proceeds.  He  says : 
"An  account  of  the  Transformation  of  Things,  given 
in  the  pages  which  follow,  is  simply  an  orderly  pre- 
sentation of  facts;  and  the  interpretation  of  the  facts 
is  nothing  more  than  a  statement  of  the  ultimate  uni- 
formities they  present  —  the  laws  to  which  they  con- 
form. Is  the  reader  an  atheist?  The  exposition  of 
these  facts  and  these  laws  will  neither  yield  support 
to  his  belief  nor  destroy  it.  Is  he  a  pantheist?  The 
phenomena  and  the  inferences  as  now  to  be  set  forth 
will  not  force  on  him  any  incongruous  implication. 
Does  he  think  that  God  is  immanent  throughout  all 
things,  from  concentrating  nebulae  to  the  thoughts  of 
poets?  Then  the  theory  to  be  put  before  him  con- 
tains no  disproof  of  that  view.  Does  he  believe  in  a 
Deity  who  has  given  unchanging  laws  to  the  Universe? 
Then  he  will  find  nothing  at  variance  with  his  belief 
in  an  exposition  of  those  laws  and  an  account  of  the 
results."  (Page  110.) 

However,  it  will  appear  that  the  two  parts  of  the 
work  are  by  no  means  so  independent  as  Mr.  Spencer 
here  affirms.  On  the  contrary,  we  shall  find  the  Un- 
knowable reappearing  again  and  again  in  confusing 
ways,  and  much  use  made  of  principles  he  is  supposed 
to  have  established.  In  particular  we  shall  find  the 

273 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

Unknowable  invoked  to  repel  the  charge  of  atheism 
and  materialism.  Of  course  we  shall  also  find  con- 
siderable contradiction  between  the  conceptions  of 
science  in  Part  First  and  those  set  up  in  Part  Second. 
Mr.  Spencer's  admission  is  not  strictly  correct,  but  it 
is  interesting  as  a  recognition  that  all  is  not  well  with 
the  logic  of  the  system. 


II 

MR.  SPENCER'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SCIENCE 

ASSUMING  the  correctness  of  Mr.  Spencer's  reason- 
ing in  the  previous  discussion,  the  drift  of  his  logic  is 
to  make  science,  as  a  knowledge  of  reality,  impossible. 
If,  then,  science  exists  at  all,  it  can  only  be  as  a  know- 
ledge of  phenomena.  In  strictness,  however,  even  this 
is  doubtful,  for,  as  was  pointed  out,  the  conclusion  of 
the  first  part  of  the  argument  is  pure  Pyrrhonism  or 
skepticism.  The  mind  is  convicted  of  being  essentially 
contradictory  in  its  operations  as  shown  in  its  pro- 
ducts, and  hence  it  must  be  essentially  untrustworthy. 
But  the  second  half  of  his  argument  is  for  a  relativity 
of  knowledge,  that  is,  a  knowledge  relative  to  our- 
selves, or  of  phenomena  only.  In  this  phenomenal 
field  it  is  assumed  that  the  mind  can  be  trusted.  But 
these  two  results  cannot  be  put  together  without  diffi- 
culty. If  we  assume  that  the  mind  is  essentially  un- 
trustworthy in  its  normal  operations,  there  seems  to 
be  no  good  ground  for  trusting  it  at  all.  This  difficulty 
is  one  that  Mr.  Spencer  seems  never  to  have  suspected. 

But  leaving  this  out  of  account,  it  is  plain  that  on 
the  previous  reasoning,  all  that  science  can  be  is  a 
positivistic  observation  and  registration  of  the  coex- 
istences and  sequences  of  phenomena.  It  cannot  even 
read  the  past  or  predict  the  future  with  any  logical 
right.  To  do  this  it  must  assume  the  system  of  phe- 
nomena with  its  fixed  laws  and  also  a  considerable 

275 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

measure  of  insight  on  our  part.  Apart  from  this 
assumption  we  have  only  psychological  expectation, 
which  we  never  can  turn  into  a  logical  warrant.  Had 
Mr.  Spencer  contented  himself  with  this  humble  posi- 
tion for  science,  there  would  have  been  a  certain  con- 
sistency in  developing  a  doctrine  of  science  after  the 
possibility  of  real  science  had  been  disproved.  But  he 
was  not  thus  content,  and  set  out  to  make  a  founda- 
tion for  science  which  should  be  something  more  solid 
than  positivism,  and  at  the  same  time  should  com- 
pletely ignore  the  positions  taken  in  Part  First.  In 
Part  Second,  which  we  now  consider,  science  often 
seems  to  forsake  the  humble  ways  of  phenomenalism 
and  to  take  the  high  a  priori  road,  talking  confidently 
of  indestructible  substances  and  energies  without  be- 
ginning or  end,  and  of  laws  without  variableness  or 
shadow  of  turning.  And  all  this  sounds  strange  from 
an  empirical  science  that  knows  only  phenomena  and 
eschews  all  knowledge  of  the  real.  Certainly  it  is  an 
interesting  problem  to  know  how  all  these  things 
occur. 

We  recall  that  in  discussing  the  Unknowable,  Mr. 
Spencer  examined  the  ideas  of  First  Cause,  Absolute, 
Infinite,  Space,  Time,  Matter,  Motion,  Force,  and 
Conscious  Mind,  and  found  them  all  unthinkable  and 
contradictory.  Thus  theology,  physics,  mathematics, 
and  psychology  as  real  sciences  were  made  impossible 
at  a  stroke.  Mr.  Spencer  was  well  content  to  leave 
theology  in  this  outcast  condition,  but  physics  he  pro- 
ceeds to  rescue  as  a  foundation  for  science.  All  the 
more  must  we  scrutinize  the  process  and  make  sure 
of  our  goings.  Again,  Mr.  Spencer  was  neither  a 

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MR.  SPENCER'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SCIENCE 

materialist  nor  an  atheist  in  intention.  The  charge  of 
materialism  he  repelled  with  warmth,  and  as  for  athe- 
ism he  held  that  the  choice  is  not  between  personality 
and  mechanism,  but  between  personality  and  some- 
thing that  may  be  higher.  Nevertheless  Evolution  is 
defined  in  terms  of  matter  and  motion,  and  the  for- 
mula is  held  to  include  all  the  phenomena  of  life,  mind, 
and  society.  Now,  it  is  plain  that  if  matter  and  mo- 
tion are  to  be  taken  in  the  usual  sense,  this  is  pure 
materialism  and  smacks  pretty  strongly  of  atheism. 
Mr.  Spencer  meets  such  suggestions  by  pointing  out 
that  matter  and  motion  are  only  symbols  of  the  in- 
scrutable power  behind  phenomena.  There  is,  then,  a 
double  problem  for  Mr.  Spencer.  First,  he  must  rescue 
science  from  the  skeptical  conclusions  of  his  agnostic 
argument,  and,  secondly,  he  must  set  forth  a  doctrine 
of  phenomena  and  phenomenal  knowledge  which  will 
at  once  make  a  foundation  for  science  and  also  save 
his  system  from  lapsing  into  vulgar  materialism  and 
atheism.  In  both  respects  Mr.  Spencer's  success  is 
very  meagre. 

On  the  first  point  Mr.  Spencer's  method  is  to  recall 
the  notions  of  space,  time,  matter,  motion,  and  force 
which  were  cashiered  and  discredited  before,  and  rein- 
state them  as  the  cornerstones  of  science.  He  says, 
''That  skeptical  state  of  mind  which  the  criticisms 
of  Philosophy  usually  produce,  is,  in  great  measure, 
caused  by  the  misinterpretation  of  words."  In  con- 
sequence, "there  results  more  or  less  of  that  dream- 
like illusion  which  is  so  incongruous  with  our  instinct- 
ive convictions."  This  sense  of  illusion  Mr.  Spencer 
proceeds  to  dispel  by  a  better  definition  of  real  and 

277 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

reality.  The  peasant,  he  says,  makes  appearance  and 
reality  one  and  the  same  thing.  But  "the  metaphysi- 
cian, while  his  words  imply  belief  in  a  reality,  sees  that 
consciousness  cannot  embrace  it,  but  only  the  appear- 
ance of  it;  and  so  he  transfers  the  appearance  into 
consciousness  and  leaves  the  reality  outside.  This 
reality  left  outside,  he  continues  to  think  of  much 
in  the  same  way  that  the  peasant  thinks  of  the  ap- 
pearance. The  realness  ascribed  to  it  is  constantly 
spoken  of  as  though  it  were  known  apart  from  all  acts 
of  consciousness."  For  the  peasant  there  is  nothing 
but  the  real  thing,  and  that  is  outside.  For  the  meta- 
physician there  is  a  distinction  between  the  thing  and 
the  appearance,  the  thing  being  outside  and  the  ap- 
pearance inside.  Hence  illusions  arise  when  the  peas- 
ant and  the  metaphysician  get  together.  The  remedy 
for  this  is  a  new  definition  of  reality:  "By  reality  we 
mean  persistence  in  consciousness.  .  .  .  The  real,  as 
we  conceive  it,  is  distinguished  solely  by  the  test  of 
persistence;  for  by  this  test  we  separate  it  from  what 
we  call  the  unreal.  .  .  .  How  truly  persistence  is 
what  we  mean  by  reality,  is  shown  in  the  fact  that 
when,  after  criticism  has  proved  that  the  real  as  pre- 
sented in  perception  is  not  the  objectively  real,  the 
vague  consciousness  which  we  retain  of  the  objectively 
real,  is  of  something  which  persists  absolutely,  under 
all  changes  of  mode,  form,  or  appearance.  And  the 
fact  that  we  cannot  form  even  an  indefinite  notion  of 
the  absolutely  real,  except  as  the  absolutely  persistent, 
implies  that  persistence  is  our  ultimate  test  of  the 
real." 

These  quotations  are  taken  from  chapter  in  of  the 

278 


MR.  SPENCER'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SCIENCE 

sixth  edition  of  the  "First  Principles,"  pages  141-43. 
It  can  hardly  be  said  that  they  will  do  much  to  remove 
"that  skeptical  state  of  mind,"  or  "that  dreamlike 
illusion,"  "which  the  criticisms  of  philosophy  usually 
produce."  The  metaphysician  is  rebuked  for  leav- 
ing the  reality  outside,  as  the  peasant  does;  whereas 
"by  reality  we  mean  persistence  in  consciousness," 
in  which  case  everything  is  inside.  But  in  the  next 
sentence  persistence  in  consciousness  is  shortened 
into  persistence,  and  we  are  left  in  further  uncer- 
tainty whether  persistence  is  the  meaning  or  the  mark 
of  reality.  Yet,  as  a  result  of  these  and  similar  con- 
siderations, Mr.  Spencer  concludes:  "Thus,  then,  we 
may  resume,  with  entire  confidence,  those  realistic 
conceptions  which  Philosophy  at  first  sight  seems  to 
dissipate."  (Page  144.)  Thus  space,  time,  matter, 
motion,  and  force  are  restored  to  us  as  "relative 
realities."  They  stand  in  indissoluble  relation  with 
their  absolute  cause,  and  for  us  are  equally  real.  We 
may,  therefore,  build  up  our  science  upon  them  with 
all  confidence,  only  referring  now  and  then,  for  form's 
sake,  to  the  absolute  reality,  lest  we  forget. 

Now  the  friendliest  critic  could  not  fail  to  see  that 
for  all  this  we  have  little  more  than  Mr.  Spencer's 
assurance.  We  are  merely  told  that  they  are  relative 
realities,  and  that  we  may  safely  build  upon  them. 
But  when  we  insist  on  walking  by  sight  rather  than 
faith  we  find  this  doctrine  in  the  highest  degree 
obscure  even  in  its  meaning.  This  brings  us  to  the 
second  point  mentioned,  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine  of 
phenomena,  their  place  and  nature. 

What  and  where  are  these  relative  realities?  What 

279 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

is  their  relation  to  us  and  to  the  unconditioned  reality? 
On  this  point  Mr.  Spencer  is  very  unclear.  Indeed, 
except  in  the  vaguest  way,  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
thought  of  it  at  all.  At  times  the  relative  realities 
seem  to  be  only  effects  in  us,  as  in  the  following:  "If, 
under  certain  conditions  furnished  by  our  constitu- 
tions, some  Power  of  which  the  nature  is  beyond  con- 
ception, always  produces  a  certain  mode  of  conscious- 
ness, —  if  this  mode  of  consciousness  is  as  persistent 
as  would  be  this  Power  were  it  in  consciousness;  the 
reality  will  be  to  consciousness  as  complete  in  the  one 
case  as  in  the  other."  (Page  144.)  Here  the  relative 
reality  appears  to  be  only  a  "mode  of  consciousness" 
wrought  in  us  by  the  absolute  reality.  But  in  speak- 
ing of  space  and  matter,  Mr.  Spencer  inclines  to  regard 
the  relative  realities  as  corresponding  to  absolute 
modes  in  the  Unknowable.  "Our  conception  of  Space 
is  produced  by  some  mode  of  the  Unknowable." 
Again,  of  matter  he  says:  "Such  being  our  cognition 
of  the  relative  reality,  what  are  we  to  say  of  the  abso- 
lute reality?  We  can  only  say  that  it  is  some  mode 
of  the  Unknowable,  related  to  the  Matter  we  know  as 
cause  to  effect."  (Page  149.)  Similarly  of  motion: 
"That  this  relative  reality  answers  to  some  absolute 
reality,  it  is  needful  only  for  form's  sake  to  assert. 
What  has  been  said  above,  respecting  the  Unknown 
Cause  which  produces  in  us  the  effects  called  Matter, 
Space,  and  Time,  will  apply,  on  simply  changing  the 
terms,  to  Motion."  (Page  151.)  Thus  space,  time, 
matter,  motion,  and  force  appear  to  be  merely  effects 
in  us,  or  modes  of  consciousness  produced  in  us. 
Apart  from  them  there  would  seem  to  be  at  times  only 

280 


MR.  SPENCER'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SCIENCE 

the  unknowable,  or  the  fundamental  reality,  and  then 
again  there  seems  to  be  this  absolute  being  plus  some 
absolute  modes,  each  of  which  corresponds  to  some  one 
of  the  relative  realities  and  causes  the  appropriate 
effect  in  us. 

This  result  gives  rise  to  a  long  series  of  puzzles.  If 
space,  time,  matter,  motion,  and  force  are  only  effects 
in  us,  then  all  that  is  described  in  these  terms,  includ- 
ing, of  course,  the  whole  process  of  evolution,  is  purely 
subjective  to  us  and  nothing  objective  whatever.  If 
we  were  away  they  would  also  be  away,  and  we  should 
not  be  very  far  from  what  Mr.  Spencer  calls  "the 
insanities  of  idealism."  But  this  was  certainly  not  Mr. 
Spencer's  view.  He  had  not  the  least  doubt  that 
evolution,  as  "an  integration  of  matter  and  concom- 
itant dissipation  of  motion,"  was  going  on  long  be- 
fore we  arrived  and  would  keep  on  if  we  should  de- 
part. All  the  more  are  we  puzzled  to  know  what  and 
where  these  relative  realities  are.  If  they  are  only  ef- 
fects in  us,  evolution  is  merely  a  mirage  of  human 
notions.  The  same  is  true  of  science  in  general.  It  has 
nothing  objective  in  it.  We  must  in  some  way  make 
these  relative  realities  independent  of  us  if  we  are  to 
have  a  real  evolution. 

There  is  one  sense  in  which  we  can  find  a  meaning 
for  this  term  relative  reality,  but  it  is  not  one  that 
would  meet  the  demands  of  Mr.  Spencer's  system.  In 
the  Berkeleian  Philosophy  the  system  of  nature  is  no 
substantial  fact,  but  rather  an  order  of  experience 
which  is  continuously  maintained  in  us  by  God.  In 
some  sense,  then,  we  might  say  that  this  system  is 
unreal  and  in  another  sense  that  it  is  real.  It  would  be 

281 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

a  relative  reality,  something  which  we  do  not  produce, 
something  which  is  common  for  all  human  beings, 
something  which  in  its  origin  is  independent  of  us, 
something  also  on  which  we  can  practically  depend, 
something,  finally,  with  its  established  relations  and 
orders  of  coexistence  and  sequence.  For  all  practical 
purposes,  then,  this  system  would  be  real.  It  would 
be  real  in  experience  and  for  experience,  and  moreover 
it  would  perfectly  meet  Mr.  Spencer's  test  of  reality 
in  that  it  would  be  persistent  in  consciousness.  But 
this  reality  would  not  be  accepted  by  Mr.  Spencer. 
It  would  be  [a  case  of]  what  he  calls  the  "insanities 
of  idealism,"  and  of  which  he  says,  "If  Idealism  be 
true,  Evolution  is  a  dream."  But  this  is  the  only 
sense  in  which  we  can  give  the  phrase,  "relative  real- 
ity," any  certain  meaning.  We  are  quite  unable  to 
tell  what  this  relative  reality  that  is  more  than  this 
is  relative  to,  and  in  what  its  relativity  consists. 

What  is  the  relation  of  these  relative  realities  to 
the  Unknowable,  according  to  Mr.  Spencer?  In  the 
exposition  already  given,  we  seem  to  have  at  least 
three  distinctions:  first,  the  Unknowable,  or  the  fun- 
damental reality;  second,  modes  of  the  Unknowable; 
third,  relative  realities,  which  are  also  spoken  of  as 
manifestations  of  the  Unknowable.  Now,  what  shall 
we  make  of  all  this? 

In  the  phrase,  "modes  of  the  Unknowable,"  we  go 
back  to  the  earlier  philosophical  notion  of  fundamen- 
tal being  as  substance  and  modes.  This  conception 
finds  its  classical  expression  in  Spinoza's  doctrine  of 
the  one  substance  and  its  modes.  But  in  order  to 
clear  up  our  doubts  respecting  Spencer's  doctrine,  we 

282 


MR.  SPENCER'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SCIENCE 

should  need  to  know  if  this  Unknowable  is  distinct 
from  the  modes,  so  that  it  could  exist  apart  from  them, 
or  whether  the  modes  exhaust  the  reality  in  the  case, 
while  the  Unknowable  is  some  principle  of  unity  of 
them.  For  instance,  if  we  speak  of  bricks  as  modes  of 
clay,  it  is  clear  that  the  clay  would  not  be  anything 
apart  from  the  bricks;  so  that  while  they  are  modes  of 
clay  the  clay  is  expressed  and  exhausted  in  the  bricks. 
If  this  were  Mr.  Spencer's  conception  of  the  relation 
of  the  fundamental  reality  to  its  modes,  we  could  in 
practice  dispense  with  the  fundamental  reality  alto- 
gether except  for  form's  sake,  and  deal  only  with  the 
concrete  modes.  In  general,  however,  Mr.  Spencer 
conceives  the  relation  between  the  fundamental 
reality  and  the  relative  reality  as  dynamic,  not  as  rigid, 
static,  or  modal;  and  the  modes,  except  in  occasional 
expressions,  drop  out  of  sight.  So,  then,  we  have 
the  fundamental  reality,  and  the  static  realities,  and 
here  again  the  question  comes  up,  What  is  the  rela- 
tion of  the  former  to  the  latter?  Is  it  expressed  in 
them  so  as  to  be  nothing  apart  from  them?  In  that 
case,  matter,  etc.,  would  be  the  only  realities,  just  as 
the  bricks  made  out  of  clay  are  the  only  realities  in  the 
case.  Or  does  the  fundamental  reality  produce  these 
relative  realities  as  something  separate  from  itself  and 
endowed  with  such  properties  that  they  are  able  to 
go  on  and  conduct  the  cosmic  order  without  any  fur- 
ther aid  from  the  fundamental  reality,  or  would  these 
relative  realities  be  anything  but  the  form  under  which 
the  one  and  only  fundamental  reality  founds  and  con- 
ducts the  cosmos?  Mr.  Spencer's  language  would 
harmonize  with  the  latter  view,  but  in  general  these 

283 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

questions  lay  beyond  his  horizon,  so  that  he  never 
even  came  in  sight  of  them,  to  say  nothing  of  settling 
them. 

In  further  exposition  of  his  doctrine,  the  question 
arises,  What  would  there  be  in  existence  if  we  were 
away?  The  fundamental  reality  would  exist,  but 
would  it  be  doing  anything  in  the  evolution  line  under 
spatial,  temporal,  and  material  forms?  If  Yes,  these 
relative  realities  are  more  than  effects  in  us.  If  No,  the 
system  collapses  into  a  subjective  mirage.  Without 
suspecting  it  Mr.  Spencer  was  here  in  the  presence  of 
a  double  difficulty.  The  first  is  one  that  has  haunted 
all  systems  of  phenomenalism  since  the  time  of  Kant. 
Such  systems  make  phenomena  subjective  only,  and 
then  we  are  puzzled  to  find  an  objective  meaning  for 
knowledge.  Phenomena  are  not  things;  and  they  are 
not  thinks.  They  are  not  subjective  in  the  sense  of  be- 
longing to  the  individual,  and  they  are  not  objective 
in  the  sense  of  being  substantial  realities  existing 
apart  from  mind.  The  only  way  out  of  this  puzzle  lies 
through  theistic  idealism.  A  system  of  phenomena 
which  is  common-to-all,  if  it  is  only  a  set  of  individual 
dreams,  is  a  contradiction  unless  a  Supreme  Mind  be 
affirmed  as  its  abiding  seat  and  absolute  condition. 

The  second  difficulty  lies  in  determining  the  rela- 
tion of  these  phenomena  to  the  Unknowable  reality. 
If  that  Unknowable  did  nothing  and  remained  rigidly 
one  and  changeless,  there  would  be  no  assignable  con- 
nection between  it  and  the  world  of  manifold  and 
changing  phenomena,  and  thus  it  would  become  use- 
less and  fictitious.  And  if  the  Unknowable  acted  only 
in  transcendental  ways,  it  would  be  equally  worthless; 

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MR.  SPENCER'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SCIENCE 

for  in  that  case  our  laws  of  thought  would  be  foreign 
to  the  Unknowable  Reality,  and  there  would  be  no 
way  of  telling  how  they  arise  or  how  they  could  be 
imposed  upon  the  Unknowable,  which  is  incommens- 
urable with  them.  There  is  here  an  impassable  gulf 
between  the  two  factors  of  the  system;  but  if  we 
make  the  changes,  successions,  and  likenesses  among 
appearances  point  to  corresponding  changes,  succes- 
sions, and  likenesses  in  the  unknown  reality  itself,  we 
subject  the  Unconditioned  itself  to  time  and  change, 
and  are  in  a  fair  way  to  get  Mr.  Mill's  "prodigious 
amount  of  knowledge  respecting  the  Unknowable." 
But  these  difficulties  lay  beyond  Mr.  Spencer's  hori- 
zon. He  picked  up  the  terminology  of  phenomenalism 
as  it  lay  at  his  hand  and  called  matter  and  force  rela- 
tive realities,  and  forthwith  they  became  real  enough 
for  mechanical  naturalism.  The  deeper  questions 
were  not  so  much  ignored  as  unsuspected,  although 
they  are  really  vital  to  the  system.  If,  then,  we  ask 
what  Matter,  Motion,  Force  are,  we  learn  that  they 
are  "symbols,"  "appearances,"  "phenomena,"  "rela- 
tive realities";  but  when  we  seek  to  determine  what 
the  terms  mean,  or  what  the  relations  of  the  things 
are  to  ourselves,  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the  Funda- 
mental Reality,  on  the  other,  we  get  no  consistent 
information. 

Having  thus  secured  to  his  own  satisfaction  the 
basal  ideas  of  physical  science,  Mr.  Spencer  proceeds 
to  deduce  its  fundamental  doctrines.  These  are  the 
indestructibility  of  matter,  the  continuity  of  motion, 
and  the  persistence  of  force.  We  consider  them  in  their 
order. 

285 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

The  Indestructibility  of  Matter 

Mr.  Spencer  introduces  the  discussion  as  follows: 
"Not  because  the  truth  is  unfamiliar,  is  it  needful 
here  to  assert  the  indestructibility  of  Matter;  but 
partly  because  the  symmetry  of  our  argument  de- 
mands enunciation  of  this  truth,  and  partly  because 
the  evidence  on  which  it  is  accepted  must  be  exam- 
ined. Could  it  be  shown,  or  could  it  with  reason  be 
supposed,  that  Matter,  either  in  its  aggregates  or  in 
its  units,  ever  becomes  non-existent,  it  would  be 
needful  either  to  ascertain  under  what  conditions  it 
becomes  non-existent,  or  else  to  confess  that  Science 
and  Philosophy  are  impossible.  For  if,  instead  of 
having  to  deal  with  fixed  quantities  and  weights,  we 
had  to  deal  with  quantities  and  weights  which  are 
apt,  wholly  or  in  part,  to  be  annihilated,  there  would 
be  introduced  an  incalculable  element,  fatal  to  all 
positive  conclusions.  Clearly,  therefore,  the  proposi- 
tion that  matter  is  indestructible  must  be  deliberately 
considered."  (Page  153.) 

"Science  and  Philosophy"  of  a  certain  sort  might 
be  impossible  in  that  case,  but  the  sane  and  sober 
science  that  understands  itself  might  still  be  possible 
for  practical  purposes.  For  such  science  a  certain 
quantitative  constancy  in  physical  change  is  all  that 
is  necessary  for  phenomenal  science,  and  is  indeed  all 
that  we  possess.  Anything  beyond  this  is  simple 
dogmatism  and  can  be  reached  only  by  dogmatic 
affirmation.  In  the  first  edition  of  "First  Principles" 
the  argument  from  experience  was  much  fuller  and 
Mr.  Spencer  had  more  confidence  in  it.  He  seemed 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

then  to  think  that  experiment  itself  pretty  solidly 
establishes  the  truth  of  the  doctrine.  In  the  last  edi- 
tion, however,  while  he  refers  to  the  experimental 
argument,  he  admits  that  the  argument  itself  is  really 
a  begging  of  the  question.  He  says :  "It  must  be  added 
that  no  experimental  verification  of  the  truth  that 
Matter  is  indestructible,  is  possible  without  a  tacit 
assumption  of  it.  For  all  such  verification  implies 
weighing,  and  weighing  assumes  that  the  matter 
forming  the  weight  remains  the  same."  (Page  158.) 
He  might  have  added  that  even  the  weighing  would 
give  different  results  if  we  changed  distances  from  the 
earth.  A  pound  at  the  earth's  surface  would  only 
weigh  four  ounces  four  thousand  miles  up  in  the  air. 
Manifestly,  weighing  gives  a  certain  fixity  of  quan- 
titative relations  and  has  no  application  to  the  idea 
of  substance  whatever. 

However,  Mr.  Spencer  thinks  that  we  have  a  higher 
warrant  for  this  fundamental  belief  than  the  warrant 
of  conscious  induction,  and  he  proceeds  to  develop 
this  higher  warrant  by  showing  the  doctrine  to  be  a 
necessity  of  thought.  He  says:  "What  is  termed  the 
ultimate  incompressibility  of  Matter,  is  an  admitted 
law  of  thought.  However  small  the  bulk  to  which  we 
conceive  a  piece  of  matter  reduced,  it  is  impossible  to 
conceive  it  reduced  into  nothing.  While  we  can  repre- 
sent to  ourselves  its  parts  as  approximated,  we  can- 
not represent  to  ourselves  the  quantity  of  matter  as 
made  less.  To  do  this  would  be  to  imagine  some  of 
the  parts  compressed  into  nothing;  which  is  no  more 
possible  than  to  imagine  compression  of  the  whole 
into  nothing."  (Page  157.)  The  appeal  here  is  to  the 

287 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

static  imagination,  and  seems  to  be  successful,  but 
if  we  should  look  at  the  matter  dynamically,  as  we 
have  to  do,  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  matter 
might  not  disappear,  not  through  compression  of  it 
into  nothing,  but  at  least  through  the  weakening  of 
its  existence  force,  which,  for  all  we  can  see,  might 
approximate  indefinitely  to  zero,  in  which  case  there 
would  be  something  which  we  could  represent  as  a 
vanishing  of  matter. 

Mr.  Spencer's  great  reliance  in  this  matter  is  an 
a  priori  argument  which  appears  in  all  the  editions: 
"Our  inability  to  conceive  Matter  becoming  non- 
existent, is  consequent  on  the  nature  of  thought. 
Thought  consists  in  the  establishment  of  relations. 
There  can  be  no  relation  established,  and  therefore 
no  thought  framed,  when  one  of  the  related  terms  is 
absent  from  consciousness.  Hence  it  is  impossible  to 
think  of  something  becoming  nothing,  for  the  same 
reason  that  it  is  impossible  to  think  of  nothing  be- 
coming something, — the  reason,  namely,  that  nothing 
cannot  become  an  object  of  consciousness.  The  an- 
nihilation of  Matter  is  unthinkable  for  the  same 
reason  that  the  creation  of  matter  is  unthinkable." 
(Page  158.) 

This  argument  has  uncommon  interest.  If  valid,  it 
proves  that  everything,  substances,  qualities,  states, 
acts,  is  eternal.  To  think  of  any  one  of  them  as  begin- 
ning or  ending  is  to  compare  its  existence  with  its 
non-existence,  which  is  impossible.  For  "thought 
exists  in  the  establishment  of  relations,"  and  "there 
can  be  no  relation  established  and  therefore  no 
thought  framed  when  one  of  the  real  terms  is  absent 

288 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

from  consciousness."  It  is  also  interesting  as  a  dis- 
tinct contradiction  of  the  argument  for  the  impossi- 
bility of  religious  ideas.  They  were  found  unthinkable 
and  "pseud,"  because  they  all  involve  the  conception 
of  unbegun  existence  or  existence  through  infinite 
past  time.  This  objection  was  fatal  in  Part  First; 
but  now  it  turns  out  in  Part  Second,  according  to 
this  [argument,  that  only  unbegun  existence  is  con- 
ceivable. It  seems,  too,  that  we  have  nothing  but 
this  argument  to  rest  upon;  for  Mr.  Spencer  adds, 
as  already  said,  that  no  experimental  verification  is 
possible. 

And  after  all,  we  are  still  left  in  the  dark  as  to  what 
is  indestructible;  for  "by  the  indestructibility  of  Mat- 
ter we  really  mean  the  indestructibility  of  the  force 
with  which  Matter  affects  us."  The  same  is  said  of 
the  continuity  of  motion.  We  can  easily  conceive 
the  change  of  position  to  cease,  but  "that  which 
defies  suppression  in  thought  (disciplined  thought, 
of  course)  is  the  force  which  the  motion  indicates." 
(Page  168.)  So  far  as  the  exposition  goes,  matter  and 
motion  are  manifestations  of  force,  ultimately  of  the 
fundamental  reality,  and  the  argument  at  best  gives 
us  only  the  indestructibility  of  this  fundamental 
force.  But  there  is  nothing  to  assure  us  that  the  mat- 
ter and  motion  manifestations  of  this  force  are  con- 
stant quantities;  for  all  that  appears,  it  is  possible 
that  force  might  go  out  of  the  matter  and  motion  line 
altogether  and  yet  persist  in  self-equality,  and  thus 
meet  all  Mr.  Spencer's  demands  upon  it.  A  firm 
might  invest  its  capital  in  various  lines  and  change 
from  one  to  another  without  diminishing  its  capital, 

289 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

but  the  fixity  of  the  capital  does  not  secure  the  fixity 
of  the  lines  of  operation.  Similarly,  so  far  as  appears, 
the  fundamental  reality  manifesting  itself  in  the  forms 
of  matter  and  motion  might  conceivably,  while  re- 
maining equal  to  itself,  go  into  other  lines  so  that 
the  matter  and  motion  form  would  disappear.  Thus 
these  doctrines,  which  are  declared  to  be  foundations 
of  science,  seem  to  float  in  the  air  as  uncertain  post- 
ulates —  except  as  that  peculiar  a  priori  argument 
about  something  and  nothing  supports  them,  and  the 
less  said  about  that  the  better.  In  these  two  chapters 
on  the  indestructibility  of  matter  and  continuity  of 
motion,  there  are  many  errors  of  detail,  but  the  lead- 
ing shortcoming  has  been  mentioned. 

Another  difficulty  should  be  noted,  springing  out  of 
his  doctrine  of  the  Unknowable.  We  might  ask,  What 
is  the  matter  that  is  indestructible?  Is  it  matter  as 
phenomenal  or  matter  as  real?  Plainly  it  is  not  the 
former,  for  the  material  bodies  about  us  undergo 
constant  change  and  frequently  disappear  altogether. 
Our  experience  of  phenomenal  matter  is  throughout 
a  changing  one,  and  hence  the  matter  that  is  really 
indestructible  must  be  the  noumenal  matter  about 
which,  by  Mr.  Spencer's  earlier  reasoning,  we  can 
know  nothing,  and  of  which  we  are  permitted  to  say 
nothing.  But  assuming  that  we  may  say  something, 
we  are  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  the  indestructible 
matter  is  the  relative  reality  or  whether  it  be  the  ab- 
solute reality  itself,  and  we  are  even  in  some  uncer- 
tainty whether  the  absolute  reality  is  anything  but 
the  relative.  It  is  conceivable  that  the  absolute 
reality  should  be  the  cause  of  the  relative  reality  or 

290 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

that  it  should  be  expressed  in  the  relative  reality,  yet 
in  such  a  way  as  to  be  exhausted  in  it.  These  relative 
realities  of  matter,  force,  and  motion  might  conceiv- 
ably not  be  effects  produced  by  the  absolute  reality, 
but  the  modes  in  which  the  absolute  reality  itself 
exists,  and  in  that  case,  except  verbally,  matter,  force, 
and  motion  would  be  all,  a  view  which  would  bring 
us  around  very  nearly  to  atheism;  but  on  this  point 
Mr.  Spencer  gives  us  no  information.  It  perhaps 
never  occurred  to  him. 

In  the  chapter  on  "The  Persistence  of  Force,"  in 
the  last  edition  of  "First  Principles,"  Mr.  Spencer 
seems  to  help  the  matter  somewhat  by  recognizing 
"manifestations  of  force  of  two  fundamentally-differ- 
ent classes"  —  "the  force  by  which  matter  demon- 
strates itself  to  us  as  existing,  and  the  force  by  which 
it  demonstrates  itself  to  us  as  acting."  This  shows 
that  Mr.  Spencer  had  some  vague  sense  that  his  proof 
of  the  indestructibility  of  matter  had  left  things  at 
such  loose  ends  that  there  was  no  security  that  the 
Unknowable  might  not  close  out  the  matter  business 
entirely  and  take  up  some  new  line.  But  the  distinc- 
tion itself  is  purely  ad  hoc.  In  what  way  would  mat- 
ter, or  anything  else,  reveal  or  possess  any  existence 
except  by  acting?  Moreover,  since  matter  itself  is  a 
"symbol"  of  the  Unknowable  Reality,  all  its  forces 
must  depend  on  that  Reality,  and  who  knows  that 
they  are  constant  quantities?  Might  not  the  exist- 
ential force  and  the  change-producing  force  of  matter 
vary?  But  having  suggested  this  distinction,  and 
taken  it  for  granted  as  possible,  Mr.  Spencer  proceeds 
to  show  that  all  force  is  persistent.  In  the  earlier 

291 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

editions  he  says:  "The  persistence  of  Force  is  an 
ultimate  truth  of  which  no  inductive  proof  is  possible. 
.  .  .  Deeper  than  demonstration,  —  deeper  even  than 
definite  cognition,  —  deep  as  the  very  nature  of 
mind,  is  the  postulate  at  which  we  have  arrived.  Its 
authority  transcends  all  other  whatever;  for  not  only 
is  it  given  in  the  constitution  of  our  own  conscious- 
ness, but  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  consciousness 
so  constituted  as  not  to  give  it."  But  what  is  the 
force  which  is  persistent?  In  the  last  edition  we  read: 
"Hence  the  force  of  which  we  assert  persistence  is 
that  Absolute  Force  we  are  obliged  to  postulate  as 
the  necessary  correlate  of  the  force  we  are  conscious 
of.  By  the  Persistence  of  Force,  we  really  mean  the 
persistence  of  some  Cause  which  transcends  our 
knowledge  and  conception.  In  asserting  it  we  assert 
an  Unconditioned  Reality,  without  beginning  or 
end."  (Page  176.) 

This  is  what  comes  of  mixing  physics  and  meta- 
physics. We  must  inquire,  first,  how  Mr.  Spencer 
agrees  with  himself,  and,  secondly,  how  he  accords 
with  sober  science.  On  the  first  point  the  most  fla- 
grant contradiction  is  manifest.  The  doctrine  really 
applies  to  that  Absolute  Force,  that  Unconditioned 
Reality,  of  which  we  are  constantly  reminded  that  it 
is  inscrutable  and  unknowable,  and  that  it  can  never 
be  comprehended  under  any  of  the  forms  of  our 
thought.  But  now  we  begin  to  know  somewhat  about 
it.  "Every  antecedent  mode  of  the  Unknowable 
must  have  an  invariable  connection,  quantitative 
and  qualitative,  with  that  mode  of  the  Unknowable 
which  we  call  its  consequent."  (Page  177.)  This  is 

292 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

surely  an  important  piece  of  information,  —  to  use 
Mr.  Mill's  phrase  again,  "a  prodigious  amount  of 
knowledge  respecting  the  Unknowable,"  —  seeing 
that  it  carries  with  it  the  affirmation  of  absolute  and 
invariable  law.  Moreover,  "In  all  three  cases  the 
question  is  one  of  quantity:  —  Does  the  Matter,  or 
Motion,  or  Force,  ever  diminish  in  quantity?  Quan- 
titative science  implies  measurement,  and  measure- 
ment implies  a  unit  of  measure.  The  units  of  measure 
from  which  all  others  of  any  exactness  are  derived, 
are  units  of  linear  extension."  (Page  173.)  It  would 
seem,  then,  that  the  Unknowable  admits  not  only  of 
being  known  in  some  very  important  respects,  but 
also  of  being  measured  by  "units  of  linear  extension." 
This  is  certainly  constraining  the  ineffable  and  un- 
conditioned into  pretty  close  quarters. 

The  scientific  value  of  the  doctrine  must  next  be 
considered.  Mr.  Spencer  is  largely  regarded  by  his 
disciples  as  an  authority  in  this  field,  and  he  doubt- 
less regarded  himself  as  setting  forth  in  these  chapters 
the  truth  as  it  is  in  science.  It  is  doubtful,  however, 
if  an  equal  number  of  scientific  blunders,  or  looser 
reasoning,  can  be  found  in  any  other  equal  space  in 
literature  claiming  to  be  scientific.  For  science,  the 
indestructibility  of  matter  means  only  a  certain 
quantitative  constancy  in  material  changes.  The 
continuity  of  motion  is  not  true  at  all.  The  conserv- 
ation of  energy  means  the  dynamic  equivalence  of 
antecedents  and  consequents  in  physical  change. 
These  doctrines,  so  far  as  true,  are  the  definite  results 
of  inductive  study  and  dynamical  reasoning;  and  no 
one  would  be  more  surprised  than  Lord  Kelvin,  or 

293 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

any  other  leader  in  physical  science,  would  be,  to 
learn  that  the  conservation  of  energy  is  "deeper  than 
demonstration,  deeper  even  than  definite  cognition, 
deep  as  the  very  nature  of  Mind."  He  would  be  sur- 
prised enough  to  learn  than  it  is  "given  in  the  con- 
stitution of  our  own  consciousness,"  and  that  "it  is 
impossible  to  conceive  a  consciousness  so  constituted 
as  not  to  give  it."  Evidently  Mr.  Spencer  is  dealing 
with  some  other  doctrine,  for  it  would  be  quite  ab- 
surd to  say  these  things  of  an  inductive  doctrine 
which  was  unknown  before  the  last  generation,  which 
is  so  far  from  being  an  a  priori  truth  that  it  is  not 
true  at  all  except  under  certain  contingent  conditions, 
and  which  Mr.  Spencer  never  understood.  In  his 
case,  certainly,  it  was  "deeper  even  than  definite 
cognition."  Mr.  Spencer's  Persistence  of  Force  is  a 
hybrid  obtained  by  crossing  bad  metaphysics  and 
hearsay  science. 

From  the  scientific  standpoint  the  conservation 
of  energy  is  a  perfectly  simple  doctrine.  It  merely 
affirms  a  certain  dynamic  equivalence  between  ante- 
cedents and  consequents  in  physical  change.  If  we 
could  measure  these  antecedents  by  some  quantita- 
tive dynamic  standard,  and  then  measure  the  conse- 
quents by  the  same  standard,  it  would  appear  that 
the  two  were  dynamically  equal.  This  would  be  the 
case,  however,  only  on  the  assumption  that  the  sys- 
tem is  not  in  any  way  modified  from  without,  and 
that  the  elements  of  the  system  are  subject  to  certain 
fixed  conditions.  That  is  to  say,  the  doctrine  is  a 
hypothetical  one  which  is  found  to  hold  within  cer- 
tain limits.  No  careful  scientist,  however,  thinks  of 

294 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

erecting  it  into  absolute  dogma,  or  of  deciding  what 
can  or  cannot  happen;  whether,  for  instance,  the 
physical  system  admits  of  being  modified  by  volitional 
action  from  without  is  something  the  scientist  would 
decide  by  observation,  and  not  by  a  priori  reasoning 
from  the  doctrine  turned  into  dogma.  For  example, 
do  our  thoughts,  purposes,  and  volitions  count  for 
anything  in  the  control  of  our  bodies,  and  through 
them  count  for  anything  in  the  physical  world? 
When  we  erect  the  doctrine  into  a  dogma,  then  we 
must  say  No;  but  when  we  retain  the  doctrine,  and 
observe  its  limitations,  it  is  entirely  open  to  us  to 
believe  that  our  thoughts  count  for  something  in  the 
ongoing  of  things  if  the  facts  of  experience  seem  to 
point  that  way.  Some  speculators,  failing  to  see  the 
grotesque  absurdity  into  which  they  fall,  have  said 
that  our  purposes  and  volitions  count  for  nothing  and 
that  the  physical  system  goes  along  by  itself;  in  which 
case,  of  course,  it  follows  that  any  utterance  or  act 
of  their  own  is  something  which  comes  to  pass  with- 
out any  direction  from,  or  origin  in,  thought  whatever. 
This  is  not  entirely  incredible  in  some  cases,  but  the 
doctrine  in  general  is  no  such  grotesque  affair.  Even 
Mr.  Huxley  himself,  who  commonly  had  a  fine  sense 
of  humor,  fell  into  this  pit  when  he  wrote  his  essay 
"On  the  Hypothesis  for  Animal  Automata."  He  held 
that  our  volition  counts  for  something  as  a  condition 
of  the  course  of  events,  but  later,  in  his  "Collected 
Essays,"  he  adds  the  explanatory  footnote,  "or  to 
conceive  more  accurately,  the  physical  state  of  which 
our  volition  is  the  expression."  With  this  rider,  it  fol- 
lows that  volition  as  such  counts  for  nothing.  The 

295 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

line  of  power  is  through  the  physical  state,  and  would 
be  all  that  it  is  if  the  volition  were  entirely  away.  It 
follows  that  when  Mr.  Huxley  read  and  pronounced 
his  famous  essays,  or  had  his  great  encounter  with  the 
Bishop  of  Worcester  for  speaking  slightingly  of  the 
doctrine  of  descent,  the  real  fact  was  that  a  physical 
organism  called,  for  distinction's  sake,  Huxley,  was 
in  such  a"  condition  that  a  great  variety  of  physical 
changes  were  produced,  noises  were  made,  and  divers 
motions  initiated,  yet  without  any  intervention  of 
thought  whatever,  and  so  far  as  we  know  even  with- 
out its  presence.  Abstract  speculators  like  Mr.  Spen- 
cer turn  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy 
into  a  dogma  of  necessity,  and  they  make  it  explain 
everything  that  comes  to  pass,  not  by  any  insight  that 
the  dogma  gives,  but  for  the  reason  that  otherwise 
the  dogma  could  not  be  maintained. 

After  this  deduction  of  the  doctrine  which  Mr. 
Spencer  declares  is  strictly  a  priori,  seeing  that  no  in- 
ductive proof  of  it  can  be  given  that  does  not  beg  the 
question,  Mr.  Spencer  next  proceeds  to  discuss  the 
Transformation  and  Equivalence  of  Forces,  and  this 
also  he  victoriously  deduces  from  the  Persistence  of 
Force.  And  here  also,  as  in  the  previous  discussion, 
he  is  exceedingly  unclear  in  his  scientific  ideas.  This 
Transformation  and  Equivalence  in  sound  physics 
means  only  this,  that  in  the  course  of  physical  change 
the  antecedents  are  sometimes  unlike  the  consequents, 
and  so  the  force  is  said  to  be  transformed;  but  though 
transformed,  the  new  force  is  dynamically  equivalent 
to  the  old,  and  hence  the  doctrine  of  the  equivalence 
of  forces.  The  antecedent  heat  may  give  rise  to  molar 

296 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

motions  or  to  electricity  or  to  chemical  action,  etc., 
and  so  on  through  the  series.  Mr.  Spencer  concludes 
that  this  transformation  is  absolutely  necessary,  be- 
cause otherwise  the  persistence  of  force  would  be  de- 
nied, and  hence  he  fancies  that  he  has  really  deduced 
the  forces  in  question.  But  this,  too,  is  very  doubtful. 
If  the  force  that  is  persistent  be  the  true  Unknowable, 
and  if  the  force  in  experience  be  only  a  manifestation 
of  that  Unknowable,  there  seems  to  be  no  way  of  de- 
claring that  the  necessary  persistence  in  the  Unknow- 
able itself  must  lead  to  necessary  transformation  and 
equivalence  in  the  forces  of  experience.  When  Mr. 
Spencer's  doctrine  is  accurately  taken,  it  leaves  us 
without  any  security  for  the  subordinate  forces,  just 
as  in  the  case  of  matter  and  motion  we  saw  that  it  left 
us  without  any  security  for  the  constancy  of  matter 
and  motion.  Mr.  Spencer  has  really  here  simply  iden- 
tified these  forces  with  the  fundamental  force,  or  else 
has  assumed  that  as  manifestations  they  are  as  fixed 
as  the  Unknowable  itself;  and  thus  the  doctrine  be- 
comes a  pure  assurance  on  his  part  without  anything 
approaching  demonstration.  He  has  practically  as- 
sumed that  the  manifestation  in  space  and  time  is 
and  must  be  continuous,  and  that  it  is  rooted  in  the 
Unknowable  as  something  [ from  which  there  can  be 
no  departure.  In  other  words,  it  is  a  piece  of  pure 
dogmatism. 

In  illustration  of  the  doctrine,  Mr.  Spencer  avails 
himself  largely  of  the  familiar  illustrations  of  tracing 
motion  into  heat,  electricity,  magnetism,  light,  and 
back  into  motion  again.  In  particular  it  might  be 
pointed  out  that  there  is  much  confusion  in  popular 

297 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

thought,  and  Mr.  Spencer  himself  is  not  entirely  free 
from  it  in  this  matter,  in  that  the  attractive  and  re- 
pulsive forces  of  matter  are  identified  with  its  ener- 
gies. Now,  the  real  correlation  is  not  at  all  among  the 
forces  of  matter,  such  as  gravitation,  affinity,  magnet- 
ism, etc.,  but  among  the  energies  which  the  fundamen- 
tal attributes  of  matter  give  rise  to.  Thus  gravita- 
tion never  becomes  affinity,  and  affinity  never  becomes 
cohesion  or  repulsion,  etc.,  and  no  one  of  these  ever 
becomes  motion.  If  we  should  affirm  a  true  correla- 
tion between  these  forces  and  motion,  it  would  be 
conceivable  that  the  whole  universe  might  upon  occa- 
sion turn  into  motion  with  nothing  moving.  Accord- 
ingly, it  was  long  ago  pointed  out  that  the  elementary 
forces  are  entirely  outside  the  range  of  correlation,  but 
all  these  forces  meet  on  the  field  of  motion  where 
energy  of  movement  is  produced,  and  there  they  may 
exchange  effects  in  certain  ways;  but  the  qualities  of 
the  elements  themselves  never  change  into  anything 
else,  and  the  nature  of  the  elements,  whereby  they  are 
enabled  to  attract  or  repel  or  manifest  the  various 
energies  of  heat  and  light,  electricity,  etc.,  remains  in- 
commensurable. 

In  tracing  the  transformation  through  cosmic 
changes,  Mr.  Spencer  sometimes  falls  into  mistakes 
as  follows:  He  claims  that  the  forces  which  have 
worked  out  geological  changes  all  have  a  given  genesis, 
namely,  the  heat  of  the  sun.  The  changes  which  have 
been  due  to  aqueous  agencies  all  come  back  to  rain  and 
rain  to  vapor,  and  "  if  we  ask,  How  came  this  vapor 
to  be  at  that  height?  the  reply  is,  It  was  raised  by 
evaporation.  And  if  we  ask,  What  force  thus  raised 

298 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

it?  the  reply  is,  The  sun's  heat."  (Page  189.)  It  is  mani- 
fest that  this  is  an  extravagance,  for  all  that  the  sun's 
heat  does  in  the  case  is  simply  to  vaporize  the  water. 
The  raising  of  the  vapor  to  the  height  from  which  it 
fell  was  due  to  gravity  itself.  The  sun's  heat  had  as 
little  to  do  with  it  as  it  has  to  do  with  the  floating  of  a 
ship.  Mr.  Spencer  has  a  goodly  section  on  this  sub- 
ject, in  which  the  sun's  heat  is  credited  with  a  great 
deal  more  than  it  ever  did. 

Similarly,  in  the  case  of  life,  the  forces  of  the  organ- 
ism are  one  with  inorganic  forces.  Animal  life  is  due 
to  vegetable  life  and  vegetable  life  is  due  to  the  inor- 
ganic, and  ultimately  to  the  sun  again.  Here  also  the 
reasoning  is  a  little  loose.  It  is  undoubtedly  true  that 
the  forces  that  play  in  the  organism  may  be  classed 
with  the  forces  outside  of  the  organism,  and  that  these 
forces  would  not  be  able  to  accomplish  anything  ex- 
cept under  certain  conditions  of  temperature  due  to 
solar  radiation.  But  it  is  altogether  possible  to  admit 
this  fact  and  yet  to  hold  that  there  is  a  form  of  energy 
called  vital,  which  works  under  certain  conditions, 
but  which  can  in  no  way  be  identified  with  those  con- 
ditions. 

For  a  long  time  there  was  a  fixed  determination  on 
the  part  of  the  mechanical  theorists  to  reduce  life  to  a 
mechanical  resultant  and  to  make  it  correlate  with  the 
inorganic  forces.  The  impossibility  of  doing  this  has 
finally  become  fairly  manifest.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
the  general  forces  of  the  physical  system  also  work  in 
the  organism,  and  to  that  extent  the  organism  comes 
under  the  will  of  the  conservation  of  energy;  but  it  is 
equally  manifest  that  these  forces  in  the  organism  are 

299 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

under  some  unifying  and  controlling  law,  so  that  they 
work  results  in  the  organism  which  they  nowhere  else 
produce.  In  order  to  explain  this  fact,  it  is  necessary 
to  find  some  agent  somewhere  which  shall  be  the 
source  of  form  and  the  seat  of  control.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  is  manifest  that  the  activity  of  this  some- 
thing, which  we  may  call  life,  would  be  in  the  main 
directive.  It  would  not  produce  physical  or  chemical 
energies,  but  the  physical  and  chemical  forces  would 
have  new  resultants  working  in  connection  with  it. 
In  that  sense  we  have  to  affirm  something  in  an  organ- 
ism that  is  better  described  as  vital  than  mechanical. 
Mr.  Spencer  finds  himself  next  compelled  to  iden- 
tify mental  and  social  forces  as  being  transformations 
of  the  inorganic  forces,  or  the  forces  that  work  in  the 
inorganic  field.  He  is  a  little  uncertain  here  as  to  what 
the  transformation  or  identification  is.  Thus  he  says 
in  the  earlier  editions,  "Those  modes  of  the  Unknow- 
able which  we  call  motion,  heat,  light,  chemical  affin- 
ity, etc.,  are  alike  transformable  into  each  other,  and 
into  those  modes  of  the  Unknowable  which  we  dis- 
tinguish as  sensation,  emotion,  thought:  these,  in 
their  turns,  being  directly  or  indirectly  re-transform- 
able into  the  original  shapes.  That  no  idea  or  feeling 
arises,  save  as  a  result  of  some  physical  force  expended 
in  producing  it,  is  fast  becoming  a  commonplace  of 
science;  and  whoever  duly  weighs  the  evidence  will 
see  that  nothing  but  an  overwhelming  bias  in  favor  of 
a  preconceived  theory  can  explain  its  non-acceptance. 
How  this  metamorphosis  takes  place — how  a  force  ex- 
isting as  motion,  heat,  or  light  can  become  a  mode  of 
consciousness — how  it  is  possible  for  aerial  vibrations 

300 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

to  generate  the  sensation  we  call  sound,  or  for  the 
forces  liberated  by  chemical  changes  in  the  brain  to 
give  rise  to  emotion  —  these  are  mysteries  which  it  is 
impossible  to  fathom.  But  they  are  not  profounder 
mysteries  than  the  transformations  of  the  physical 
forces  into  each  other."  This  appeared  in  the  ear- 
lier editions.  (Page  280,  First  Edition.)  In  the  last 
edition  the  matter  is  a  little  modified,  but  not  essen- 
tially changed. 

This  passage  gives  rise  to  some  questions.  The 
statement,  that  the  change  of  the  physical  forces  into 
thought  and  feeling  is  no  more  mysterious  than  the 
change  of  physical  forces  into  one  another,  would  not 
seem  to  be  strictly  true  from  Mr.  Spencer's  own  stand- 
point; because  the  physical  forces  are  regarded  by 
him  as  modes  of  motion,  and  the  change  of  one  mode 
of  motion  into  another  is  not  obviously  mysterious. 
Thus,  rectilinear  motion  might  become  circular  mo- 
tion and  motion  might  increase  or  diminish  in  veloc- 
ity, and  there  seems  to  be  no  great  mystery  in  the 
matter;  but  when  that  which  is  motion  becomes  that 
which  is  not  motion,  but  sensation  or  feeling,  we 
really  seem  to  be  introduced  to  a  mystery  of  a  higher 
order.  But  apart  from  this,  in  the  view  set  forth, 
heat,  light,  etc.,  seem  to  be  regarded  as  becoming  sen- 
sation, motion,  thought,  so  that  the  physical  system 
at  that  moment  loses  something  which  passes  into 
the  non-physical  form  of  mental  states;  and  when  the 
direction  is  reversed,  then  the  physical  system  gains 
something  from  the  return  of  the  energy  in  mental 
states  into  the  physical  field  again.  This  was  the  con- 
ception maintained  by  Dr.  Carpenter,  among  others, 

301 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

of  the.  doctrine  of  transformation,  and  he  pointed  out 
that  in  such  an  order  we  must  really  fix  our  thought 
upon  the  highest  member  of  the  series  as  the  essen- 
tial one,  for  if  the  lower  forms  can  become  the  higher, 
it  must  mean  that  they  are  essentially  the  same  as  the 
higher  from  the  start.  We  can  easily  conceive  that  a 
higher  force  might  work  in  the  form  of  a  lower  one, 
but  we  cannot  conceive  that  a  force  which  is  essen- 
tially lower  could  raise  itself  to  the  higher  levels.  Ac- 
cordingly, Dr.  Carpenter  held  that  the  real  force  in 
nature,  while  taking  on  lower  forms  and  passing  down 
into  the  inorganic  forms  of  mechanical  nature,  is  all 
the  while  essentially  correlated  with  the  will,  which  is 
the  true  force  in  nature.  The  lower  forces,  then,  are 
but  conditioned  manifestations  of  a  supreme  will 
from  which  they  spring.  Mr.  Spencer's  view,  as  set 
forth,  would  make  a  similar  suggestion  possible. 
Heat,  light,  etc.,  become  sensation,  emotion,  and 
thought,  and  it  would  be  quite  possible  from  a  logical 
standpoint  to  hold  that  the  latter  are  the  truly  real 
forms  and  that  the  former  are  only  these  higher  forms 
appearing  in  lower  manifestations.  But  Mr.  Spencer 
himself  did  not  seem  to  hold  such  a  view,  although, 
even,  in  the  last  edition  of  "First  Principles,"  he  is 
unwilling  to  admit  that  mental  states  count  for  no- 
thing in  the  physical  ongoing.  He  refers  to  Professor 
Huxley's  doctrine,  that  consciousness  is  outside  the 
series  of  nervous  changes  and  does  not  form  a  link  in 
the  physical  chain,  but  is  simply  a  "concomitant"  or 
"collateral  product."  This  Mr.  Spencer  regards  as 
excessive,  and  seems  inclined  to  think  that  feelings 
have  real  significance  in  the  world  of  change.  He  says  : 

302 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

"Sundry  facts  appear  to  imply  that  consciousness  is 
needful  as  an  initiator  in  cases  where  there  are  no 
external  stimuli  to  set  up  the  coordinated  nervous 
changes:  the  nervous  structures,  though  capable  of 
doing  everything  required  if  set  going,  are  not  set 
going  unless  there  arises  an  idea.  Now,  this  implies 
that  an  idea,  or  coordinated  set  of  feelings,  has  the 
power  of  working  changes  in  the  nervous  centres  and 
setting  up  motions :  the  state  of  consciousness  is  a  fac- 
tor: ...  Once  more,  there  is  the  question,  If  feeling 
is  not  a  factor,  how  is  its  existence  to  be  accounted 
for?  To  any  one  who  holds  in  full  the  Cartesian  doc- 
trine that  animals  are  automata,  and  that  a  howl  no 
more  implies  feeling  than  does  the  bark  of  a  toy  dog, 
I  have  nothing  to  say.  But  whoever  does  not  hold 
this,  is  obliged  to  hold  that,  as  we  ascribe  anger  and 
affection  to  our  fellow  men,  though  we  literally  know 
no  such  feelings  save  in  ourselves,  so  must  we  ascribe 
them  to  animals  under  like  conditions.  If  so,  how- 
ever, —  if  feelings  are  not  factors,  and  the  appropri- 
ate actions  might  be  automatically  performed  with- 
out them, — then,  on  the  supernatural  hypothesis,  it 
must  be  assumed  that  feelings  were  given  to  animals 
for  no  purpose,  and  on  the  natural  hypothesis  it  must 
be  assumed  that  they  have  arisen  to  do  nothing." 
(Page  199.) 

Here  Mr.  Spencer  seems  to  take  sides  against  Mr. 
Huxley's  doctrine  of  animal  automatism,  and  to  in- 
sist that  consciousness  itself  is  one  of  the  dynamic 
factors.  At  the  same  time,  in  his  "Psychology"  he 
seems  to  regard  the  mental  states  as  a  kind  of  inner 
face  of  the  physical  conditions  and  as  truly  counting 

303 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

for  nothing  in  the  physical  movement.  Ideas  are 
spoken  of  as  the  inner  aspect  of  nascent  motor  excita- 
tions in  the  ganglia,  and  the  impression  is  given,  not 
that  physical  and  mental  states  are  different  things, 
but  rather  that  they  are  different  aspects  of  the  same 
fact,  which  fact,  moreover,  is  essentially  physical, 
namely,  a  certain  grouping  of  matter  and  motion. 
Thus  Mr.  Spencer  leaves  us  somewhat  in  doubt,  after 
all,  as  to  including  the  mental  life  within  the  dynamic 
series.  Some  of  his  statements  look  that  way  and 
others  look  in  the  opposite  direction.  Possibly  this 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  a  very  general  desire  pos- 
sessed many  of  the  naturalistic  speculators  to  keep 
the  physical  series  complete  in  itself.  Any  other  view 
they  regarded  as  a  break  of  continuity,  and  this  was 
the  unpardonable  sin.  Professor  Clifford  stigma- 
tized the  theory  that  the  physical  series  loses  any- 
thing to  pass  into  a  mental  series,  or  gains  anything 
from  a  mental  series  outside  itself,  as  the  notion  of  a 
savage.  He  held  that  the  physical  series  strictly  goes 
along  by  itself,  neither  losing  nor  gaining  anything 
from  beyond  itself,  but  moving  in  such  a  way  that 
each  physical  antecedent  is  dynamically  reproduced 
in  the  physical  consequent  and  each  such  consequent 
can  be  traced  to  its  physical  antecedent.  This  be- 
came the  general  doctrine,  for  a  time,  of  thinkers  of 
this  class,  and  Mr.  Spencer  oscillated  rather  con- 
fusedly between  them.  What  we  have  just  quoted 
respecting  Professor  Huxley's  automatism  makes 
feelings  dynamic,  but  the  notion  of  mental  states  as 
the  inner  aspect  of  physical  states  deprives  them  of 
all  proper  dynamic  character.  We  shall  return  to  this 

304 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

point  later  when  treating  of  the  theory  of  psycho- 
physical  parallelism. 

We  might  also  point  out,  before  leaving  the  subject, 
that,  after  all,  Mr.  Spencer  does  not  properly  make 
out  any  correlation  or  identification  of  the  physical 
and  the  mental  series  in  any  case.  When  he  gets  into 
the  psychological  field,  the  Unknowable  is  presented 
as  having  two  phases,  a  subjective  aspect  and  an 
objective  one,  neither  of  which  can  be  reduced  to  the 
other.  In  that  case,  without  some  further  reason  than 
has  been  given  us,  it  would  be  possible  to  think  that 
the  subjective  aspect,  as  shown  in  life  and  thought, 
might  come  from  the  subjective  phase  of  the  Unknow- 
able, while  the  physical  aspect  of  the  world  comes 
from  the  objective  phase,  and  between  these  there 
will  be  no  more  interaction  than  there  was  in  Spin- 
oza's doctrine  of  the  one  substance  with  the  two 
incommunicable  attributes. 

Thus,  we  see  that  Mr.  Spencer  is  as  vague  and 
cloudy  in  his  conception  of  force  and  the  relations  of 
the  forces  as  in  his  notions  of  the  relative  realities,  to 
which  we  have  before  referred.  Nothing  is  clearly 
conceived  or  precisely  stated,  but  everything  seems 
to  be  continually  on  the  point  of  changing  into  some- 
thing else,  the  confusion  being  covered  up  by  an  im- 
posing terminology  which  has  an  air  of  perpetually 
saying  the  right  thing  and  hitting  the  nail  on  the  head, 
without,  however,  doing  so. 

In  leaving  this  subject  of  the  persistence  of  force, 
reference  may  be  made  to  a  doctrine  which  never 
seems  to  have  come  within  Mr.  Spencer's  view.  The 
conservation  of  energy  as  a  scientific  doctrine  is  well 

305 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

known  to  be  one  that  looks  towards  the  running-down 
of  a  system  rather  than  its  eternal  working.  For  a 
time  the  doctrine  was  thought  to  have  proved  the 
possibility  of  ceaseless  energizing,  and  this,  when  com- 
bined with  the  indestructibility  of  matter,  appeared 
to  demonstrate  at  last  the  eternity  of  the  physical 
system.  This,  however,  was  soon  set  aside  by  the  dis- 
covery of  what  Lord  Kelvin  called  the  dissipation 
of  energy,  or,  better,  the  degradation  of  energy.  The 
continuance  of  the  present  dynamic  system  is  as  de- 
pendent upon  the  differentiation  of  energy  as  upon 
its  conservation.  As  far  as  the  meaning  of  the  law  is 
concerned,  energy  is  energy,  no  matter  what  its  forms; 
but  in  fact  energy  has  many  forms,  as  heat,  light,  molar 
motion,  etc.  And  here  the  surprising  fact  comes  out 
that,  while  it  is  easy  to  pass  from  some  forms  to  some 
others,  it  is  not  so  easy  to  pass  back.  This  is  preemi- 
nently the  case  with  heat.  Other  forms  can  be  entirely 
transformed  into  heat,  but  heat  cannot  be  entirely 
re-transformed  into  other  forms.  There  is  as  much 
energy  as  before,  but  it  cannot  be  used;  for  heat  can 
do  work  only  when  there  is  an  inequality  of  tempera- 
ture, as  water  can  do  work  only  when  there  is  a  dif- 
ference of  elevation.  If  water  stood  at  the  same  level 
all  around  the  world,  there  would  be  no  loss  of  water, 
but  water  power  would  cease.  Heat  follows  the  same 
law,  and  cannot  do  work  when  it  has  the  same  level 
in  all  bodies.  Now,  this  law  points  to  a  cessation  of 
transformation,  and  therefore  to  the  running-down  of 
the  universe  as  a  dynamic  system.  A  little  relief  might 
be  found  for  a  time  in  the  wreck  and  clash  of  solar 
systems,  until  all  the  matter  within  the  [range]  of 

306 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

gravitation  was  gathered  into  one  great  effete  lump. 
It  and  the  ether  may  be  supposed  to  have  conserved 
all  their  energy,  but  to  no  purpose,  as  the  transform- 
ation of  energy  has  become  impossible.  We  may  sup- 
pose some  unknown  relief  from  this  conclusion,  but 
it  must  be  admitted  that  so  far  as  knowledge  goes 
everything  points  to  the  running-down  of  the  dynamic 
system. 

Mr.  Spencer,  as  said,  has  not  considered  this  fact, 
unless  we  suppose  that  his  chapter  on  "Equilibration" 
is  such  consideration.  He  there  points  out  that  physi- 
cal processes  must  finally  come  to  an  end,  generally 
for  reasons  unconnected  with  the  law  of  energy.  In  a 
single  passage,  however,  he  does  connect  these  final 
equilibrations  with  the  persistence  of  force,  and  that 
only  makes  matters  worse  for  his  system.  If  by  the 
persistence  of  force  we  mean  the  fundamental  reality 
itself,  we  can  hardly  hold  that  it  is  ever  going  to 
run  down,  because  its  persistence  is  declared  to  be 
"deeper  than  demonstration,  deeper  even  than  defi- 
nite knowledge,  deep  as  the  very  nature  of  the  mind 
itself."  Hence  the  force  that  is  going  to  run  down 
must  be  something  derived,  and  this  introduces  us 
again  to  our  old  puzzles  about  the  relative  realities 
and  their  relation  to  the  Unknowable.  This  simply 
adds  one  more  uncertainty  to  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine. 

Having  thus  established  the  principle  of  the  persist- 
ence of  force,  Mr.  Spencer  proceeds  to  prove  a  rich 
variety  of  propositions.  The  first  deduction  is  the 
uniformity  of  law.  He  says:  "Every  antecedent  mode 
of  the  Unknowable  must  have  an  invariable  connec- 
tion, quantitative  and  qualitative,  with  that  mode  of 

307 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

the  Unknowable  which  we  call  its  consequent.  For  to 
say  otherwise  is  to  deny  the  persistence  of  force." 
(Page  177.)  This  is  another  case  of  dogmatic  meta- 
physics for  which  no  sufficient  warrant  can  be  found 
except  in  Mr.  Spencer's  own  mind.  The  physical 
doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy  assumes  the 
indestructibility  of  matter  and  the  constancy  of  the 
laws  of  force,  and  on  this  basis  it  concludes  to  a 
constancy  of  certain  dynamic  relations.  In  itself,  it 
warrants  no  metaphysical  affirmation  concerning  the 
nature  of  matter  or  the  uniformity  of  law.  A  more 
interesting  application  of  the  principle  is  found  in  the 
chapter  on  "The  Direction  of  Motion."  Simple  reflec- 
tion on  the  notion  of  energy  reveals  no  differentia- 
tions in  it.  No  such  reflection,  for  instance,  reveals 
that  energy  must  appear  in  the  various  forms  of  light, 
heat,  electricity,  etc.  This  is  a  fact  to  be  discovered 
by  experience  and  not  something  that  can  be  deduced. 
Similarly,  the  work  which  the  energy  shall  do  cannot 
be  decided  by  any  a  priori  reflection  upon  them.  The 
energies  themselves  are  capable  of  acting  in  a  great 
variety  of  cases,  so  as  to  produce  the  most  widely  dif- 
fering effects.  We  need,  therefore,  in  order  to  get  any 
insight  into  the  order  of  things,  to  find  some  principle 
of  direction.  Some  persons  have  thought  to  find  this 
principle  in  intelligence,  perhaps,  and  choice,  but  Mr. 
Spencer  thinks  otherwise,  and  proceeds  to  expound 
the  principle  in  this  chapter  on  "The  Direction  of 
Motion,"  which  he  says  must  always  take  the  direc- 
tion of  the  line  of  least  resistance.  This  chapter  is, 
in  effect,  anti-teleological,  and  serves  to  exclude  all 
teleological  interpretation. 

308 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

The  principle  itself  is  somewhat  of  an  axiom  for 
mechanical  matters,  especially  when  we  determine 
the  line  of  least  resistance  by  the  direction  of  the 
motion.  The  principle  is  first  traced  in  the  inorganic 
world.  It  is  then  traced  through  organic  forms,  men- 
tal phenomena,  social  groups  and  movements,  indus- 
trial combinations  and  differentiations,  the  move- 
ments of  capital,  changes  of  legislation,  etc.  These  are 
all  declared  to  be  motions  of  one  sort  or  another,  and 
of  course  must  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance.  To 
be  sure,  we  cannot  by  reflecting  on  the  line  of  least 
resistance  discover  any  of  these  things  contained  in  it. 
No  reflection,  for  instance,  on  the  mechanical  axiom 
that  motion  takes  place  along  the  line  of  least  resist- 
ance would  reveal  to  us  that  the  line  must  be  such  as 
to  lead  to  the  building-up  of  an  organism,  with  its 
various  parts,  or  to  industrial  changes,  or  to  the  adop- 
tion of  legislation,  of  the  dispatch  of  an  army;  but  by 
means  of  a  somewhat  violent  rhetoric  we  can  regard 
these  things  as  cases  of  motion  and  refer  them  to  the 
line  of  least  resistance,  and  then  there  is  no  longer  any 
room  for  protest  or  anything  to  wonder  about.  Things 
must  follow  this  line  of  least  resistance,  and  the  line 
could  not  have  been  otherwise  or  other-where  than  it 
is,  for  to  suppose  that  it  could  is  to  deny  the  persist- 
ence of  force.  To  reach  any  other  result  whatever, 
some  force  must  have  acted  which  did  not  or  some 
force  must  have  failed  to  act  which  did;  and  as  this  is 
impossible,  everything  must  be  as  it  is.  In  all  this  Mr. 
Spencer  verily  thought  he  was  talking  the  language  of 
science,  whereas  he  was  simply  announcing  the  meta- 
physical dogma  of  necessity  and  using  it  as  a  means  of 

309 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

warding  off  all  inquiry.  He  gives  an  appearance  of 
reasoning  to  some  of  his  utterances,  but  the  gist  of  it 
consists  in  falling  back  on  the  assumption  of  necessity. 
The  following  is  an  illustration:  — 

"  Organic  form  is  the  result  of  motion." 
"  Motion  takes  the  direction  of  least  resistance." 
"  Therefore,  organic  form  is  the  result  of  motion  in 
the  direction  of  least  resistance."   (Page  214.) 

If  any  one  had  thought  that  organic  form  was  a 
complicated  matter,  involving  such  complexity  as  to 
demand  some  principle  of  intelligence  for  the  arrange- 
ment of  its  parts,  he  would  now  see  from  this  beauti- 
fully simple  syllogism  how  mistaken  he  was,  and  how 
the  organic  world  necessarily  results  from  elementary 
mechanical  laws.  The  major  premise  is  undeniable, 
the  minor  premise  is  a  mechanical  axiom,  and  the 
conclusion  necessarily  follows.  To  be  sure,  we  cannot 
by  any  reflection  on  those  laws  deduce  the  result,  but 
by  reflection  on  the  result  we  see  that  it  must  come 
under  the  law. 

But  the  argument  admits  of  endless  application. 
Thus  the  writing  of  a  book,  say  "Paradise  Lost,"  is 
the  result  of  motion  in  the  direction  of  least  resistance. 
The  argument  is  just  as  good  in  one  case  as  in  the 
other,  and  in  both  cases  we  might  say  that  the  per- 
sistence of  force  demands  this  result.  The  product 
could  not  have  been  otherwise  unless  some  force  had 
acted  which  did  not  or  some  force  had  failed  to  act 
which  did,  and  this  would  have  been  impossible,  for 
the  persistence  of  force  forbids  it.  We  see,  then,  that 
teleological  questions  may  never  be  raised.  We  are 
in  the  midst  of  a  scheme  of  necessity,  and  necessity 

310 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

knows  no  teleology.  Here  everything  is  driven  from 
behind  and  nothing  is  led  from  before.  There  is  only 
metaphysical  causality  from  the  past,  there  is  no  final 
causality  which  looks  toward  the  future.  This  is  the 
purely  verbal  trap  into  which  Romanes  fell  when  he 
wrote  "The  Candid  Examination  of  Theism."  Ro- 
manes escaped;  Spencer  never  escaped,  but  continued 
to  think  he  was  talking  pure  speculation  and  deep 
science.  Anything  more  nai've,  whether  from  the  sci- 
entific or  the  philosophic  standpoint,  it  would  be  hard 
to  find.  In  the  work  referred  to,  Romanes  pointed  out 
that  theistic  argument  was  worthless,  because  the  per- 
sistence of  force  forbade  it.  The  argument  presupposes 
that  things  might  have  been  otherwise,  whereas  they 
could  not  have  been  otherwise ;  and  since  they  could 
not  have  been  otherwise,  there  was  nothing  to  won- 
der about.  He  afterward  saw  through  the  verbal- 
ism, and  at  the  time  of  his  death  was  engaged  in  the 
wanting  of  a  book  to  recall  his  earlier  work.  He  must 
have  felt,  after  coming  to  himself,  like  a  man  who  had 
surrendered  his  valuables  on  being  menaced  with  a 
wooden  pistol.  It  is  almost  incredible  that  Mr.  Spen- 
cer should  have  failed  to  see  the  superficiality  of  this 
chapter  on  the  direction  of  motion,  and  the  fact  that  a 
great  many  unlike  things  are  brought  together  under 
a  common  word  without  giving  them  the  slightest 
essential  likeness.  The  principle  is  exemplified,  as 
before  said,  in  the  inorganic  world;  then  comes  the 
deduction  of  organic  form  already  given;  then  mental 
phenomena  are  declared  to  be  subject  to  the  same  law; 
voluntary  acts  are  next  included;  social  aggregations 
and  social  changes  are  likewise  brought  under  the  law, 

311 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

and  here  we  have  some  very  familiar  matter  adduced 
in  illustration.  For  example:  — 

"Fertile  valleys,  where  water  and  vegetal  products 
abound,  are  early  peopled.  Seashores,  too,  supplying 
much  easily  gathered  food,  are  lines  along  which  man- 
kind have  commonly  spread.  The  general  fact  that,  so 
far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  traces  left  by  them,  large 
societies  first  appeared  in  those  warm  regions  where 
the  fruits  of  the  earth  are  obtainable  with  compara- 
tively little  exertion,  and  where  the  cost  of  maintain- 
ing bodily  heat  is  but  slight,  is  a  fact  of  like  meaning. 
. .  .  Similarly,  with  that  resistance  to  the  movements 
of  a  society  which  neighboring  societies  offer.  Each  of 
the  tribes  or  nations  inhabiting  any  region,  increases  in 
numbers  until  it  outgrows  its  means  of  subsistence. . . . 
And  the  wars  that  result  —  the  conquests  of  weaker 
tribes  or  nations,  and  the  overrunning  of  their  terri- 
tories by  the  victors  —  are  instances  of  social  move- 
ments taking  place  in  the  directions  of  least  resistance. 
Nor  do  the  conquered  peoples,  when  they  escape  ex- 
termination or  enslavement,  fail  to  show  us  move- 
ments which  are  similarly  determined  ....  Internal 
social  movements  also  may  be  thus  interpreted.  Local- 
ities naturally  fitted  for  producing  particular  commo- 
dities —  that  is,  localities  in  which  such  commodities 
are  got  at  the  least  cost  of  energy  —  that  is,  localities 
in  which  the  desires  for  these  commodities  meet  with 
the  least  resistance;  become  localities  devoted  to  the 
obtainment  of  these  commodities.  Where  soil  and 
climate  render  wheat  a  profitable  crop,  or  a  crop  from 
which  the  greatest  amount  of  life-sustaining  power  is 
gained  by  a  given  quantity  of  effort,  the  growth  of 

312 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

wheat  becomes  a  dominant  industry.  Where  wheat 
cannot  be  economically  produced,  oats,  or  rye,  or 
maize,  or  potatoes,  or  rice,  is  the  agricultural  staple. 
Along  seashores  men  support  themselves  with  least 
effort  by  catching  fish,  and  hence,  fishing  becomes 
the  occupation.  And  in  places  which  are  rich  in  coal 
or  metallic  ores,  the  population,  finding  that  labor 
expended  in  raising  these  materials  brings  a  larger 
return  of  food  and  clothing  than  when  otherwise 
expended,  becomes  a  population  of  miners.  This 
last  instance  introduces  us  to  the  phenomena  of  ex- 
change, which  equally  illustrate  the  general  law.  .  .  . 
Movement  in  the  direction  of  least  resistance  is  also 
seen  in  the  establishment  of  the  channels,  along  which 
intercourse  takes  place.  At  the  outset,  when  goods 
are  carried  on  the  backs  of  men  and  horses,  the  paths 
chosen  are  those  which  combine  shortness  with  level- 
ness  and  freedom  from  obstacles  —  those  which  are 
achieved  with  the  smallest  exertion.  ...  All  subse- 
quent improvements,  ending  in  macadamized  roads, 
canals,  and  railways,  which  reduce  the  antagonism  of 
friction  and  gravity  to  a  minimum,  exemplify  the  same 
truth.  .  .  .  To  say  that  artisans  flock  to  places  where, 
in  consequence  of  facilities  for  production,  an  extra 
proportion  of  produce  can  be  given  in  the  shape  of 
wages,  is  to  say  that  they  flock  to  places  where  there 
are  the  smallest  obstacles  to  the  support  of  themselves 
and  families;  and  so  growth  of  the  social  organism 
takes  place  where  the  resistance  is  least. 

"Nor  is  the  law  less  clearly  to  be  traced  in  those 
functional  changes  daily  going  on.  The  flow  of  capital 
into  businesses  yielding  the  largest  returns,  the  buying 

313 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

in  the  cheapest  market  and  selling  in  the  dearest,  the 
introduction  of  more  economical  modes  of  manufac- 
ture, the  development  of  better  agencies  for  distribu- 
tion, exhibit  movements  taking  place  in  directions 
where  they  are  met  by  the  smallest  totals  of  opposing 
forces.  For  if  we  analyze  each  of  these  changes, — if 
instead  of  interest  on  capital  we  read  surplus  of  pro- 
ducts which  remains  after  maintenance  of  laborers,  — 
if  we  thus  interpret  large  interest  or  large  surplus  to 
imply  labor  expended  with  the  greatest  results,  — 
and  if  labor  expended  with  the  greatest  results  means 
muscular  action  so  directed  as  to  evade  obstacles  as 
far  as  possible,  —  we  see  that  all  these  commercial 
phenomena  imply  complicated  motions  set  up  along 
lines  of  least  resistance."  (Pages  220-24.) 

One  would  not  have  thought  that  so  much  was  con- 
tained in  this  line  of  least  resistance.  Men  live  most 
where  they  can  live  best.  Hence,  strangely  enough, 
they  settle  on  good  soil,  on  fertile  river  bottoms,  in- 
stead of  in  desert  places.  Fishermen  live  along  the 
seashore  instead  of  on  top  of  hills  or  in  the  interior. 
Men  raise  wheat  where  they  can  get  most  of  a  crop 
and  where  it  pays  best.  They  also  mine,  it  would 
seem,  in  regions  where  there  are  mineral  deposits. 
They  work,  too,  where  they  can  get  the  most  wages. 
In  making  roads  they  pick  out,  all  things  considered, 
the  line  of  least  resistance.  When  men  go  into  busi- 
ness, they  select  the  forms  which  promise  the  highest 
returns,  etc.,  etc.  It  is  not  easy  at  first  to  see  how  all 
the  various  phenomena  of  social  life  can  be  gathered 
under  the  one  principle  that  motion  takes  place  along 
lines  of  least  resistance,and  indeed,  they  cannot  well  be 

314 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

thus  gathered  except  by  the  use  of  some  violent  meta- 
phors whereby  a  mechanical  principle  is  stretched  to 
cover  things  to  which  it  has  no  resemblance.  But  if 
reflections  of  this  kind  should  occur  to  us,  all  doubt  is 
completely  driven  away  by  remembering  that  nothing 
could  have  been  otherwise  unless  some  force  had  acted 
which  did  not  act  or  some  other  force  had  failed  to  act 
which  did  act;  and  as  this  would  contradict  the  per- 
sistence of  force,  we  see  with  the  utmost  clearness  that 
all  these  things  come  under  this  one  principle  and  there 
is  nothing  left  to  wonder  about.  Reflection  on  the 
direction  of  motion  along  lines  of  least  resistance  of 
itself  leads  to  nothing,  but  when  we  see  the  direction 
that  motion  takes,  we  can  conclude  that  this  must  have 
been  the  line  of  least  resistance,  and  then  we  under- 
stand everything,  from  the  simplest  mechanical  change 
up  through  all  individual  and  social  action  in  all  its 
details. 

Thus  we  have  the  foundation  stone  of  Mr.  Spencer's 
system.  Space,  time,  matter,  motion,  and  force  are 
given  as  the  material  out  of  which  the  system  is  to  be 
built,  and  then  we  have  the  principle  of  the  indestruc- 
tibility of  matter,  the  persistence  of  force,  the  corre- 
lation and  equivalence  of  forces  given  as  principles 
according  to  which  the  building  is  to  go  on.  When 
closely  considered,  all  of  these  things  are  left  very 
vague  and  uncertain,  but  the  one  thing  that  is  clear 
is  that  no  questions  may  be  asked  or  objections  raised, 
lest  we  contradict  the  persistence  of  force,  that  is,  in 
Mr.  Spencer's  understanding  of  the  term. 

And  now  that  we  have  these  foundation  stones,  we 
might  raise  one  more  question  as  to  what  Mr.  Spencer 

315 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

aims  to  do,  and  here  again  we  shall  find  the  old  uncer- 
tainty continuing.    At  the  close  of  the  volume  on 
"First  Principles,"  we  have  the  following  words: 
"Over  and  over  again  it  has  been  shown,  in  various 
ways,  that  the  deepest  truths  we  can  reach,  are  simply 
statements  of  the  widest  uniformities  in  our  experi- 
ences of  the  relations  of  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force; 
and  that  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force  are  but  symbols 
of  the  Unknown  Reality.  A  Power  of  which  the  na- 
ture remains  forever  inconceivable,  and  to  which  no 
limits  in  Time  or  Space  can  be  imagined,  works  in  us 
certain  effects.   These  effects  have  certain  likenesses 
of  kind,  the  most  general  of  which  we  class  together 
under  the  names  of  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force;  and 
between  these  effects  there  are  likenesses  of  connec- 
tion, the  most  constant  of  which  we  class  as  laws  of 
the  highest  certainty.  Analysis  reduces  these  several 
kinds  of  effect  to  one  kind  of  effect;  and  these  sev- 
eral kinds  of  uniformity  to  one  kind  of  uniformity. 
And  the  highest  achievement  of  Science  is  the  inter- 
pretation of  all  orders  of  phenomena,  as  differently- 
conditioned  manifestations  of  this  one  kind  of  effect, 
under  differently-conditioned  modes  of  this  one  kind 
of  uniformity.  But  when  Science  has  done  this,  it  has 
done  nothing  more  than  systematize  our  experiences, 
and  has  in  no  degree  extended  the  limits  of  our  ex- 
periences. We  can  say  no  more  than  before,  whether 
the  uniformities  are  as  absolutely  necessary  as  they 
have  become  to  our  thought   relatively  necessary. 
The  utmost  possibility  for  us  is  an  interpretation  of 
the  process  of  things  as  it  presents  itself  to  our  limited 
consciousness;  but  how  this  process  is  related  to  the 

316 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

actual  process  we  are  unable  to  conceive,  much  less 
to  know.  Similarly,  it  must  be  remembered  that  whjle 
the  connection  between  the  phenomenal  order  and  the 
ontological  order  is  forever  inscrutable;  so  is  the  con- 
nection between  the  conditioned  forms  of  being  and 
the  unconditioned  form  of  being  forever  inscrutable. 
The  interpretation  of  all  phenomena  in  terms  of  Mat- 
ter, Motion,  and  Force,  is  nothing  more  than  the 
reduction  of  our  complex  symbols  of  thought  to  the 
simplest  symbols;  and  when  the  equation  has  been 
brought  to  its  lowest  terms,  the  symbols  remain  sym- 
bols still."  (Page  509.) 

This  is  as  confused  as  it  is  well  meant.  Once  more, 
matter,  motion,  and  force  are  declared  to  be  effects  in 
us;  in  which  case  evolution  is  only  a  process  in  us,  and 
how  it  is  "  related  to  the  actual  process  apart  from  us 
we  are  unable  to  conceive."  These  "  conditioned  forms 
of  being,"  of  which  he  speaks,  are  everywhere  identi- 
fied with  Matter,  Motion,  and  Force,  which  appear  to 
be  apart  from  us.  Then,  to  complete  the  confusion, 
they  are  said  to  be  "symbols  of  thought,"  and  thus 
are  made  subjective  again.  But  this  point  will  be  dis- 
cussed in  the  next  section.  Here  it  is  to  be  observed 
that  the  conception  of  explanation  that  runs  through 
the  paragraph  is  classification.  This  is  definitely  said 
to  be  the  aim  and  end  of  investigation.  We  are,  then, 
to  arrange  all  of  our  facts  under  the  heads  of  matter, 
motion,  and  force,  and  when  this  is  done,  we  have 
done  all  that  is  possible.  The  interpretation  of  all 
phenomena  in  these  terms  is  nothing  more  than  the 
reduction  of  our  complex  symbols  of  thought  to  the 
simplest  symbols,  and  when  the  equation  has  been 

317 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

brought  to  its  lowest  terms,  the  symbols  remain  sym- 
bqls  still.  But  explanation  by  classification  is  the  very 
lowest  form  of  explanation  and  really  tells  us  nothing. 
It  merely  puts  things  together  under  certain  heads 
of  likeness  and  separates  them  into  different  classes, 
but  all  the  while  brings  us  no  nearer  to  any  new  in- 
sight. So  far,  then,  as  this  paragraph  goes,  we  might 
in  a  way  make  Mr.  Spencer  a  present  of  his  result  at 
the  start.  We  are  to  make  three  classes  of  matter, 
motion,  and  force,  of  whose  inner  [nature]  we  know 
nothing  except  this,  that  it  is  totally  unlike  any  con- 
ception we  can  form,  and  [as  to]  which  things,  more- 
over, we  are  left  uncertain  whether  they  be  anything 
but  effects  in  us.  But  granting  that  the  classification 
is  rightly  objective,  it  is  quite  surprising  to  see  how 
very  little  it  tells  us.  It  simply  says  that  all  things 
may  be  classed  under  one  or  another  of  these  three 
heads.  How  their  differences  arise,  which  is  a  very 
important  fact  of  the  problem  of  experience,  is  en- 
tirely overlooked,  because  the  differences  themselves 
are  entirely  ignored.  All  material  things  may,  indeed, 
be  classed  as  groups  of  matter.  A  stone  is  a  grouping. 
A  living  body  is  a  grouping.  The  various  machines  of 
human  invention  are  groupings.  Houses,  books,  as- 
semblies, etc.,  are  verily  cases  of  groupings  of  matter, 
and  so  we  put  them  all  together  as  cases  of  matter 
and  motion.  But  a  classification  so  general  as  this  in- 
cludes everything  at  the  expense  of  meaning  nothing. 
We  might  go  on  and  include  everything  in  the  one 
class  of  the  thinkable,  and  thus  at  one  stroke  all 
things  would  be  made  one.  In  all  classification  it  is 
necessary  to  make  sure  that  our  work  pays  expenses. 

318 


THE  INDESTRUCTIBILITY  OF  MATTER 

There  are  classes  and  classes.  Some  classification  is 
helpful,  and  some  is  so  general  as  to  be  at  once  true 
and  worthless.  Moreover,  it  is  far  from  clear  how  Mr. 
Spencer  would  apply  this  classification  of  all  things  as 
matter,  motion,  and  force  to  life  and  thought  and  the 
intellectual  world  in  general.  Our  conceptions  are 
cases  of  matter  and  motion.  Do  we  get  any  insight 
into  a  religious  aspiration,  a  moral  resolve,  a  patriotic 
devotion,  by  saying  that  these  are  cases  of  matter  and 
motion?  In  truth,  we  shall  see  that  Mr.  Spencer  did 
not  confine  himself  to  explanation  by  classification, 
but  went  on  to  something  quite  different;  but  the 
passage  quoted  serves  to  show  how  uncertain  Mr. 
Spencer  was  as  to  his  own  aims. 

Mr.  Spencer's  ideas  in  both  physics  and  metaphys- 
ics were  in  the  highest  degree  vague  and  confused. 
Just  where  precision  is  needed,  some  semi-rhetorical 
or  metaphorical  term  is  introduced,  and  we  are  left  to 
grope  for  the  meaning.  There  is  something  cramping 
to  free  movement  in  rigorous  philosophic  criticism  and 
the  precision  of  the  mathematico-physical  sciences. 
But  possibly  his  genius  will  find  a  more  congenial  field 
in  the  broader  regions  of  biology  and  sociology,  and 
in  those  great  evolutionary  generalizations  with  which 
his  name  is  inseparably  connected.  Mr.  Spencer  is 
preeminently  the  apostle  of  evolution  and  the  great 
formulator  of  its  law.  Here,  at  all  events,  the  disci- 
ples feel  safe  in  giving  way  to  their  enthusiasm.  We 
now  consider  his  formula  of  evolution. 


Ill 

THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

IN  the  first  edition  of  "First  Principles,"  Mr. 
Spencer  formulated  the  law  of  evolution  as  follows: 
Evolution  is  a  change  from  an  indefinite,  incoherent 
homogeneity,  to  a  definite,  coherent  heterogeneity; 
through  continuous  differentiations  and  integrations." 
(Page  216.)  But  this  formula  was  highly  abstract, 
and  it  was  not  easy  to  tell  what  the  homogeneity  and 
the  heterogeneity  were.  It  seemed  to  make  no  con- 
nection whatever  with  physical  science.  Moreover 
differentiation  and  integration  also  belong  to  those 
vague  phrases  which  apply  to  everything  without 
meaning  much  of  anything;  in  fact,  there  is  nothing  in 
the  heavens  above  or  the  earth  beneath  or  in  the  waters 
under  the  earth  in  which  differentiation  and  integra- 
tion could  not  be  traced.  To  screen  the  ashes  from  the 
furnace,  to  wet  the  flower  bed,  to  wash  one's  hands, 
to  walk  about,  to  trim  one's  beard,  to  dress  or  undress, 
anything  and  everything  might  be  brought  under 
the  head  of  differentiation  and  integration,  if  it  were 
worth  while.  To  obviate  some  of  these  difficulties, 
Mr.  Spencer  changed  the  definition  in  the  second  and 
later  editions  and  left  out  differentiation  and  integra- 
tion altogether.  In  the  new  form  the  definition  runs  as 
follows:  "Evolution  is  an  integration  of  matter  and 
concomitant  dissipation  of  motion,  during  which  the 
matter  passes  from  an  indefinite,  incoherent  homo- 

320 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

geneity,  to  a  definite,  coherent  heterogeneity;  and 
during  which  the  retained  motion  undergoes  a  parallel 
transformation."  In  the  last  edition  of  "First  Princi- 
ples," Mr.  Spencer  fills  one  hundred  and  fifteen  pages 
in  leading  up  to  this  distinction. 

This  formula  is  to  be  examined,  first,  for  meaning, 
and  secondly,  for  value.  In  seeking  to  fix  the  mean- 
ing, we  must  again  point  out  the  uncertain  character 
and  whereabouts  of  matter  and  motion  in  Mr.  Spen- 
cer's scheme.  They  are  called  symbols  and  relative 
realities,  and  are  declared  to  be  effects  produced  in 
us  by  the  Unknowable.  But  in  that  case,  as  already 
pointed  out,  evolution  has  no  objective  significance, 
since  all  its  factors  are  only  effects  in  us  — having  an 
objective  cause,  indeed,  but  no  objective  counterpart 
or  correspondence.  This  would  never  do,  as  it  would 
land  us  in  "the  insanities  of  idealism."  But  if  we 
make  matter  and  motion  objective  "symbols"  of  the 
Unknowable,  we  are  quite  at  a  loss  to  know  in  what 
sense  they  are  symbols.  A  real  thing  may  be  made 
a  symbol  of  something  else  by  mutual  agreement  of 
persons,  as  in  telegraphic  signals,  but  its  symbolism 
has  nothing  to  do  with  its  existence.  The  symbolism 
exists  only  as  a  convention  of  the  persons  concerned, 
and  is  nothing  in  itself.  When,  then,  matter  and 
motion  are  called  symbols,  one  is  at  a  loss  to  know  in 
what  their  symbolic  character  consists  and  for  whom 
they  are  symbols.  The  integration  of  matter  and 
dissipation  of  motion  we  can  understand,  when  there 
are  real  moving  things  in  space,  but  the  integration 
and  dissipation  of  symbols  are  unclear  notions.  If 
they  are  symbols,  like  the  devices  of  mathematical 

321 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

mechanics  for  describing  and  summing  up  the  order 
of  experience,  they  are  nothing  in  themselves,  and  have 
no  more  objectivity  than  a  volume  of  differential  and 
integral  formulas.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are 
objective  modes  of  the  unknowable,  we  are  left  in 
some  concern  lest  the  unknowable  be  expressed  and 
exhausted  in  these  modes  so  as  to  be  nothing  apart 
from  them;  in  which  case  we  fall  into  materialism  and 
atheism  again.  It  will  be  noticed  that  in  the  definition 
both  the  Persistent  Force  and  the  Unknowable  fail  to 
appear,  and  nothing  is  left  but  Matter  and  Motion  as 
the  sole  facts  in  the  evolutionary  process.  To  escape 
this  result,  we  must  continue  to  call  them  "symbols," 
"aspects,"  "relative  realities,"  and  when  we  do  so  are 
quite  at  a  loss  to  understand  our  own  meaning  or  to 
locate  the  evolutionary  process. 

To  the  popular  naturalistic  speculator,  of  course, 
this  is  unintelligible  metaphysics,  and  we  forbear. 
But,  leaving  these  obscurities,  the  formula  is  still  un- 
clear in  its  meaning.  When  the  homogeneity  is  said  to 
be  indefinite  and  incoherent,  is  it  such  in  itself,  or  only 
with  reference  to  some  standard  of  our  own?  In  the 
latter  case  the  change  is  purely  relative  to  ourselves 
again,  and  represents  no  truly  objective  progress. 
But,  if  it  be  indefinite  and  incoherent  in  itself,  is  it 
such  for  our  senses  or  for  the  reason?  In  the  former 
case  we  mistake  appearance  for  reality.  If  indefinite 
and  incoherent  for  the  reason,  what  do  the  terms 
mean?  Do  they  mean  the  absence  of  all  definite  pro- 
perty, law,  and  relation?  Such  a  homogeneity  would 
be  nothing.  Yet  they  must  mean  that  or  become  sim- 
ply relative  to  our  plans,  or  senses,  or  powers  of  per- 

322 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

ception,  and  lose  all  objective  significance.  And  the 
homogeneous,  too,  —  what  shall  we  make  of  that? 
Is  it  essentially  or  only  apparently  homogeneous?  In 
the  former  case,  it  has  no  motion  in  it  and  refuses 
to  differentiate.  In  the  latter  case,  there  is  no  real 
homogeneous,  for  all  later  differences  are  implicit 
from  the  start.  These  questions — and  they  are  only 
samples  of  the  swarming  difficulties  —  show  how  con- 
fused the  formula  is,  and  how  hard  it  is  to  fix  a  con- 
sistent and  permissible  meaning.  And  when  logic  has 
been  appeased,  physics  objects.  What  is  meant  by  the 
integration  of  matter  and  concomitant  dissipation  of 
motion?  Certainly  motion  is  nothing  that  can  fly  off 
by  itself  and  leave  matter  behind.  This  part  of  the 
definition  applies  only  to  the  contraction  of  a  physical 
system  through  cooling,  and  presupposes  the  ether  as 
something  apart,  to  make  it  possible.  The  value  of 
the  formula  must  be  declared  zero.  It  is  one  of  those 
showy  generalizations  which  are  so  vague  as  to  include 
everything  at  the  expense  of  meaning  nothing.  What 
is  there,  as  said,  in  the  heavens  above  or  the  earth 
beneath  that  cannot  be  viewed  as  a  case  of  differ- 
entiation or  integration?  And  how  much  wiser  is  any 
one  after  such  a  view?  Only  a  lover  of  Barmecide 
feasts  could  find  satisfaction  in  such  an  unsubstantial 
mockery  and  barren  show  of  wisdom.  The  formula 
itself  leads  to  no  insight.  We  merely  gather  under  it 
the  facts  which  we  have  elsewhere  learned,  without 
gaining  any  additional  insight  or  control.  That  the 
terms  mean  the  same  thing  when  we  are  speaking  of 
physical,  mental,  social,  industrial,  political  changes  is 
taken  for  granted;  and  all  of  these,  on  the  theory,  are 

323 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

cases  of  the  integration  of  matter  and  concomitant 
dissipation  of  motion. 

But  at  best,  the  formula  is  only  a  description.  We 
see  no  reason  why  there  should  be  such  an  order  of 
change.  Why  should  things  move  in  this  direction,  or, 
indeed,  move  at  all?  This  insight  is  furnished  in  the 
principles  of  the  Instability  of  the  Homogeneous,  the 
Multiplication  of  Effects  and  Segregation,  or,  as  Mr. 
Spencer  sometimes  calls  it,  the  integration  of  corres- 
pondences. These  are  the  principles  of  movement  and 
combination  in  the  system.  On  them  Mr.  Spencer 
relies  to  get  the  evolution  process  under  way.  In  these 
principles  there  is  a  kind  of  parallel  to  the  principles 
in  Hegel's  system.  According  to  Hegel,  the  idea  is  in 
unstable  equilibrium  and  tends  to  pass  into  its  oppo- 
site, and  thus  contradict  itself.  This  result  is  escaped 
by  uniting  the  idea  and  its  opposite  in  a  higher  con- 
ception. Accordingly,  his  scheme  consists  of  thesis 
and  antithesis  and  synthesis,  each  thesis  producing  its 
antithesis,  and  these  are  united  in  a  higher  synthesis, 
and  so  on  indefinitely.  There  is  a  species  of  mechan- 
ical parallel  to  this  in  Mr.  Spencer's  principles.  The 
homogeneous  is  unstable  and  passes  into  the  hetero- 
geneous, and  then,  through  segregation,  there  is  a 
union  of  opposites  in  some  higher  form,  and  thus  the 
system  tends  to  move  and  progress.  We  now  con- 
sider the  value  of  these  principles. 

The  instability  of  the  homogeneous  is  distinctly 
false  as  a  general  principle  of  thought  or  mechanics. 
Nothing  whatever  is  unstable  because  it  is  homogene- 
ous, but  for  some  other  reason.  Iron  is  homogeneous 
and  rusts.  Gold  or  platinum  is  homogeneous  and  does 

324 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

not  rust.  Nitre-glycerine  or  chloride  of  nitrogen  is 
heterogeneous  and  very  unstable.  Neither  homogene- 
ity nor  heterogeneity  has  anything  to  do  with  the  re- 
sults, but  the  positive  relations  of  chemical  affinity  are 
alone  responsible.  Ether  is  said  to  be  supremely 
homogeneous,  but  is  very  stable;  and  indeed  the 
homogeneous,  mechanically  considered,  must  in  so 
far  be  stable,  except  as  it  is  acted  upon  by  heterogene- 
ous forces  from  without.  Conceiving  the  universe  as 
a  homogeneous  whole,  it  must  be  alike  in  all  its  parts 
and  relations.  If  there  were  differences  of  density  or 
energy  or  direction  or  motion  in  different  parts,  it 
would  be  [to  this  degree]  heterogeneous  and  not 
homogeneous.  But  if  thus  alike  in  all  its  parts,  or  thus 
symmetrically  arranged,  it  would  plainly  be  in  balance, 
and  without  something  to  overturn  the  equilibrium 
would  remain  balanced  forever.  Mr.  Spencer  gives 
multitudinous  examples  in  which  the  homogeneous 
thing  is  in  the  presence  of  unequal  forces,  and  the  re- 
sulting change  is  supposed  to  illustrate  the  instability 
of  the  homogeneous.  Thus,  he  says  a  pair  of  scales 
will  never  remain  balanced  for  long.  One  arm  or  the 
other  is  sure  to  ascend,  and  this  is  supposed  to  illus- 
trate the  principle;  whereas,  manifestly,  the  reason  for 
the  fact  is  that  the  arms  of  the  scales  are  not  strictly 
equal  or  not  strictly  subject  to  the  same  influences;  it 
is  heterogeneity  and  not  homogeneity  that  explains 
the  motion.  Again,  a  vessel  full  of  water  becomes 
heterogeneous  through  the  formation  of  distinct  cur- 
rents in  it,  but  here,  too,  it  is  not  homogeneity,  but 
heterogeneity  of  the  incident  forces  that  explain  the 
effect.  Were  the  heat  equal  or  symmetrically  complete 

325 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

throughout  the  body  of  water,  we  should  have  no  cur- 
rents. The  examples  given  illustrate  instability  in 
general  and  not  any  special  instability  of  the  homogen- 
eous. And  the  argument  for  the  principle  leads  to  the 
same  result.  For  this  principle  is  said  to  be  a  corollary 
of  the  Persistence  of  Force,  and  this  leads  to  constant 
change.  Change  is  as  continuous  in  the  heterogeneous 
as  in  the  homogeneous,  but  the  changing  heterogene- 
ous is  heterogeneous  still,  while  the  changing  homo- 
geneous is  homogeneous  no  longer.  In  the  latter  case 
the  name  changes  as  well  as  the  thing.  In  the  former 
case  the  name  does  not  change;  but  in  both  cases 
the  thing  changes.  The  change  of  name  in  one  case 
and  its  constancy  in  the  other  led  Mr.  Spencer  to 
think  he  had  discovered  a  principle.  This  is  well 
shown  by  an  illustration  given  in  earlier  editions,  but 
omitted  in  the  last.  The  planets  do  not  move  in  cir- 
cular orbits,  which  are  said  to  be  homogeneous  and 
would  be  unstable,  but  in  elliptical  orbits,  which  are 
said  to  be  both  heterogeneous  and  stable.  The  fact  is 
that  any  lapse  from  a  circular  orbit  makes  it  noncir- 
cular,  but  a  lapse  from  an  elliptical  orbit  may  leave 
it  still  elliptical.  This  is  the  case  with  the  planets. 
They  never  move  in  the  same  orbit  from  one  instant  to 
another,  but  the  varying  orbits  admit  of  being  reduced 
to  a  mean  orbit  for  purposes  of  calculation  and  are 
all  ellipses.  Hence  the  delusion  of  special  stability. 
With  such  science  and  logic  one  may  deduce  princi- 
ples to  order.  Both  the  reasoning  and  the  highly 
heterogeneous  collection  of  illustrations  point  to  in- 
stability in  general,  in  the  heterogeneous  as  well  as  in 
the  homogeneous;  and  when  we  take  the  system  as  a 

326 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

whole,  reflection  shows  that  homogeneity  and  hetero- 
geneity can  never  be  increased  or  diminished  by  any 
action  of  mechanical  or  necessary  forces.  If  we  reason 
back  from  heterogeneity,  we  never  come  to  homo- 
geneity, but  are  compelled  to  make  the  heterogeneity 
implicit  from  the  start.  If  we  reason  forward  from 
homogeneity,  we  cannot  get  it  to  move  at  all.  The 
necessary  logical  equivalence  of  cause  and  effect  in 
any  mechanical  scheme  forbids  any  progress.  But 
of  this  also  Mr.  Spencer  never  dreamed,  and  under 
the  influence  of  the  fallacy  of  the  universal,  he  passed 
back  and  forth  between  the  homogeneous  and  the 
heterogeneous  with  the  utmost  facility  and  without 
suspecting  the  verbal  character  of  the  process. 

Professor  James  Ward,  in  his  work,  "Naturalism 
and  Agnosticism,"  several  years  ago  subjected  this 
"principle"  of  the  Instability  of  the  Homogeneous  to 
a  very  thorough  overhauling,  with  the  result  that  Mr. 
Spencer  in  the  last  edition  adds  a  note  saying  that  the 
word  "relatively"  should  be  introduced  into  the  de- 
finition of  evolution  before  each  of  the  antithetical 
clauses.  The  statement  should  be  that  "the  matter 
passes  from  a  relatively  indefinite,  incoherent  homo- 
geneity to  a  relatively  definite,  coherent  heterogen- 
eity." This  does  not  mend  the  matter  in  the  least;  for 
logic  shows  that  in  such  a  system  there  can  be  no 
increase  of  heterogeneity  by  any  action  of  the  forces 
within  the  system  itself.  But  the  logic  and  metaphy- 
sics of  change  lay  far  below  Mr.  Spencer's  soundings. 
When  next  Mr.  Spencer  asks  if  a  chicken  is  not  more 
heterogeneous  than  an  egg,  the  answer  is  Yes,  for  the 
senses,  and  No,  for  the  understanding;  for  without  an 

327 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

immanent  organic  law  in  the  egg  which  implied  all  the 
heterogeneities  of  the  chicken,  the  chicken  would  not 
exist.  In  short,  at  any  point  in  the  past  of  an  imper- 
sonal mechanical  scheme  we  are  bound  to  find  all  its 
future  products  in  latent  potentiality.  If  a  nebula  was 
one  phase  of  that  past,  then  all  future  products  were 
latent  in  the  nebula;  and  they  were  evolved  only  be- 
cause they  were  potentially  there.  In  that  case,  for 
thought  there  is  no  real  progress  or  explanation,  but 
only  a  successive  manifestation  of  the  original  poten- 
tialities and  implications  of  the  system. 

These  considerations  dispense  with  an  examination 
of  the  two  other  principles  mentioned.  They  are 
equally  superficial  and  verbal  and  without  scientific 
character.  The  Multiplication  of  Effects  means  only 
that,  when  change  is  once  set  up  in  the  homogeneous; 
it  proceeds  more  rapidly  thereafter  because  each 
change  becomes  a  ground  for  other  changes  and  thus 
effects  are  multiplied.  In  Segregation  we  have  his 
principle  of  combination.  The  two  former  principles 
tend  to  differentiation,  and  of  themselves  might  pro- 
duce chaos.  This  is  prevented  by  the  third  principle 
of  segregation.  According  to  this,  like  tends  to  get 
with  like  and  is  then  stable.  Illustrations  abound.  In 
the  fall  the  wind  segregates  the  dead  and  dying  leaves 
from  a  tree  and  leaves  the  green  ones  behind,  and  this 
is  segregation.  At  the  delta  of  rivers  the  heavier 
matter  brought  down  by  the  current  is  first  deposited, 
then  the  lighter,  and  finally,  still  farther  out,  the 
lightest  mud,  and  this  is  segregation.  When  wheat 
and  chaff  are  thrown  up  against  the  wind,  there  is  also 
segregation.  In  the  same  way  we  present  segregation 

328 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

in  society,  in  trade,  and  all  the  divisions  of  labor  that 
mark  essential  progress.  Thus,  combination  and  or- 
der are  explained  by  this  principle.  But  all  of  this  is 
verbal,  and  unless  carefully  handled  the  principle  of 
segregation  contradicts  the  instability  of  the  homo- 
geneous, as  the  former  seems  bent  on  producing  homo- 
geneities, while  the  latter  is  busy  in  overturning 
them.  But  assuming  the  principles,  another  question 
arises  respecting  the  direction  of  these  changes.  Sup- 
posing that  the  homogeneous  must  lapse  into  the 
heterogeneous,  it  does  not  follow  that  it  must  lapse 
into  an  orderly  heterogeneous  rather  than  a  chaotic 
one.  Or,  supposing  that  there  must  be  segregation, 
why  should  it  not  be  amorphous  segregation?  The 
principles  are  quite  as  compatible  with  chaos  as  with 
creation.  If  they  are  to  escape  chaos,  it  can  only  be  as 
the  principles  are  such  in  the  conditions  of  their  work- 
ing, that  order,  and  the  actual  order,  is  implicit 
and  necessary  from  the  start.  Mere  change,  as  such, 
contains  no  principle  of  direction  and  no  progress. 
Change  might  well  be  of  a  kaleidoscopic  kind  in  which 
one  form  succeeds  another  form,  but  in  which  there  is 
no  movement  toward  an  end.  This  question  of  direc- 
tion, which  is  essentially  the  question  of  selective  and 
directive  intelligence  in  the  cosmos,  is  ignored  by  Mr. 
Spencer  except  so  far  as  the  chapter  on  "The  Direc- 
tion of  Motion"  may  be  viewed  as  an  answer.  There 
it  is  pointed  out,  as  already  noticed,  that  motion  must 
take  place  along  the  line  of  least  resistance.  All  me- 
chanical, vital,  mental,  and  essential  phenomena  are 
identified  as  cases  of  motion,  and  hence  are  sub- 
ject to  the  law.  They  could  not,  then,  be  otherwise 

329 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

without  denying  the  persistence  of  force,  which  is  the 
deepest  of  all  truths.  Thus,  all  things  are  simply 
called  necessary,  and  there  is  nothing  left  to  wonder 
about.  There  is  no  why  to  necessity,  and  no  room  for 
wonder.  When,  then,  all  things  are  seen  to  be  nec- 
essary, teleology  is  out  of  place.  Here  Mr.  Spencer 
erects  a  misunderstood  doctrine  of  inductive  science 
into  an  absolute  and  all-embracing  necessity  without 
any  suspicion  of  the  baselessness  and  suicidal  nature 
of  the  performance.  Force,  then,  is  ever  weaving  and 
unweaving  and  all  things  pass.  There  is  no  room  for 
stability  of  any  kind  except  so  far  as  we  assume  it  or 
take  it  for  granted.  When  we  ask  for  the  ground  of 
purposelike  combination  in  living  things,  Mr.  Spencer 
goes  a  little  way  in  trying  to  illustrate  them  as  cases 
of  these  principles.  The  homogeneous  germ,  if  un- 
stable, falls  into  heterogeneity,  and  of  the  hetero- 
geneities thus  produced,  the  like  get  together  and 
thus  the  organism  results.  Of  course  this  is  purely 
an  assurance,  for  no  one  can  trace  these  principles 
into  actual  results;  but  a  veto  is  issued  against  raising 
any  further  questions,  because  to  assume  that  things 
might  have  been  otherwise  is  to  presuppose  that  some 
force  might  have  acted  which  did  not,  or  some  force 
might  have  failed  to  act  which  did,  and  this  would 
deny  the  persistence  of  force,  which  is  impossible. 
Thus  we  suddenly  return  to  the  doctrine  of  a  blind 
necessity  because  of  which  everything  is  as  it  is  be- 
cause it  must  be.  We  cannot,  indeed,  see  that  it  must 
be,  but  we  are  told  it  must  be,  and  no  further  ques- 
tions must  be  asked.  No  mind,  then,  is  needed,  but 
only  a  power.  Everything  flows  from  the  persistence 

330 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

of  force,  by  ways  that  are,  indeed,  dark  and  sub- 
terranean, so  far  as  logic  goes;  but  we  are  forbidden 
to  raise  any  questions  under  penalty  of  rebuke  for 
denying  the  persistence  of  force.  It  might  be  pointed 
out  that,  since  this  is  the  gist  of  his  argument,  Mr. 
Spencer  might  well  have  dispensed  with  a  large  part 
of  his  argumentation,  as  it  really  gives  us  no  insight. 
For  whenever  difficulties  arise,  we  are  told  that  the 
persistence  of  force  makes  it  necessary  that  things 
should  be  as  they  are;  and  in  that  case  we  might  as 
well  have  been  told  that  at  the  start,  and  the  many 
volumes  of  the  Synthetic  Philosophy  need  not  have 
been  written,  unless,  indeed,  the  persistence  of  force 
required  it.  From  the  logical  point  of  view,  and  so 
far  as  insight  goes,  it  all  amounts  simply  to  saying 
that  the  system  of  things  is  necessary  and  hence  must 
be  as  it  is  and  could  not  be  otherwise.  To  be  sure, 
this  statement  is  given  a  scientific  appearance  by 
using  scientific  terminology,  but  that  does  not  change 
its  character  in  the  least. 

From  a  logical  standpoint  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine 
of  evolution  is  little  more  than  the  fallacy  of  the  uni- 
versal, that  is,  the  mistaking  of  class  terms  for  real 
things  and  the  mistaking  of  the  classifying  process  for 
a  process  of  reality  in  itself.  Logic  shows  that  classi- 
fication never  makes  any  identity  nor  abolishes  any 
difference.  We  gather  together  a  plurality  of  things 
under  a  single  term  which  serves  as  a  name  for  all  the 
individuals.  But  this  process  does  nothing  to  the 
individuals.  It  simply  subsumes  them  under  a  given 
term  which  serves  for  our  uses  in  thinking;  but  it 
leaves  the  things  just  what  and  where  they  were 

331 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

before.  Thus,  the  class  term  becomes  a  sort  of  sym- 
bol or  shorthand  expression,  which  applies  to  a  great 
many  things,  but  which  implies  no  one  of  them.  The 
class  term  Man  applies  to  all  human  beings,  but  it 
does  not  imply  any  one.  It  is  merely  a  general  name 
for  human  beings;  but  when  we  come  to  deal  with 
real  men  and  women,  we  always  have  to  bring 
back  the  peculiarities  and  differences  which  we 
dropped  out  when  we  were  forming  the  class  term. 
Thus,  we  have  in  thinking  a  certain  symbolic  and 
shorthand  process  which  is  of  great  service  in  abbre- 
viating thought,  but  which  becomes  a  fruitful  source 
of  error  unless  we  are  on  our  guard  against  it.  Man 
is  no  reality;  men  are  the  realities.  And  even  men  lose 
none  of  their  individual  characteristics  and  differ- 
ences when  they  are  classified.  This  every  one  sees 
with  regard  to  class  terms  applied  to  familiar  con- 
crete beings,  but  not  every  one  sees  this  when  applied 
to  such  other  class  terms,  as  Matter,  Motion,  and 
Force,  and  the  like.  The  reality  in  these  cases  is 
material  things  having  definite  individual  forces  and 
moving  in  definite  relations,  with  definite  veloci- 
ties in  definite  directions,  etc.;  and  these  differences 
can  never  be  eliminated  from  the  real  world  of  experi- 
ence by  our  classifications.  Yet  we  form  such  abstrac- 
tions as  Matter  and  Force,  and  then  easily  come  to 
mistake  them  for  the  original  realities  of  the  cosmic 
system;  and  because  these  terms  are  very  small  and 
contain  no  concrete  specification,  they  seem  to  be  so 
low  that  we  might  well  view  them  as  the  original  raw 
material  out  of  which  the  world  is  made,  and  being 
so  low  and  unformed  they  seem  to  make  no  demands 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

upon  intelligence  for  explanation.  Thus,  the  last  terms 
of  logical  analysis  become,  because  of  this  oversight, 
the  first  terms  of  real  existence;  and  the  logical  sub- 
ordination of  individuals  to  the  class  term  is  mis- 
taken for  their  ontological  implication.  That  such 
simple  originals  cannot  be  reached  by  logic  is  mani- 
fest. Classification  never  eliminates,  it  only  overlooks 
difference;  and  when  we  pass  from  symbolic  thinking 
to  concrete  thinking  and  exhaustive  thinking,  we  find 
that  we  can  never  reduce  our  problem  to  lower  terms. 
We  are  compelled  to  pick  up  in  the  concrete  all  that 
we  dropped  in  the  abstract,  and  the  problem  remains 
unchanged,  however  much  we  may  manipulate  our 
classification.  The  principle  known  as  the  logical 
equivalence  of  cause  and  effect  in  any  mechanical 
thinking  compels  us  to  assume,  in  principle,  in  the  an- 
tecedent, all  that  is  worked  out  in  the  consequent;  for 
if  the  effect  was  not  provided  for  in  the  cause,  in  the 
sense  of  being  necessitated  by  it,  it  could  never  pro- 
duce it;  but  if  the  effect  is  thus  provided  for  in  the 
cause,  then  the  cause  that  explains  the  effect  is  only 
that  which  in  principle  contains  the  effect,  and 
again  there  is  no  progress.  All  this  was  overlooked  by 
Mr.  Spencer  in  his  evolution  formula.  He  seemed  to 
think  it  possible  to  reason  backward  from  the  pre- 
sent complex  order  to  a  simple,  indefinite,  incoherent 
homogeneity;  and  to  reason  forward  from  this  homo- 
geneity to  the  present  complex  order.  But  this  is 
simply  what  we  have  called  the  fallacy  of  the  uni- 
versal, of  which  fallacy,  moreover,  Mr.  Spencer's 
system  is  a  monumental  illustration.  He  can  neither 
reach  nor  use  his  indefinite  homogeneity  without 

333 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

fallacious  reasoning,  and  throughout  he  is  simply  mis- 
taking, as  said,  the  last  terms  of  logical  abstraction 
for  the  first  terms  of  real  existence,  and  further  mis- 
taking the  fact  of  logical  subordination  for  the  very 
different  fact  of  ontological  implication. 

Thus,  we  have  examined  the  fundamental  and 
scientific  conceptions  of  Mr.  Spencer's  system 
and  find  them  far  from  satisfactory.  There  is  an 
abundance  of  learning  of  a  sort  and  an  appearance 
also  of  perpetually  hitting  the  nail  on  the  head,  but 
when  we  examine  the  matter  all  this  turns  out  to  be 
illusory.  Mr.  Spencer  seems  to  be  equally  far  from 
sound  science  and  sound  reasoning.  We  have  now  to 
consider  the  use  which  he  makes  of  these  principles  in 
the  further  development  of  his  thought,  and  especially 
in  his  doctrine  of  life  and  mind. 

And  here  the  question  arises  whether  his  doctrine 
is  to  be  called  materialistic  or  not.  On  this  point  Mr. 
Spencer  is  very  pronounced,  and  repels  the  charge  of 
materialism  with  much  warmth.  This  makes  it  sure 
that  Mr.  Spencer  did  not  intend  to  be  or  think  he  was 
a  materialist.  But  in  attempting  to  decide  his  view 
the  chronic  difficulties  of  his  exposition  beset  us.  We 
understand  that  the  formula  of  evolution  is  intended 
to  cover  the  whole  field  of  mind  and  society  as  well  as 
of  physics,  and  that  formula  makes  evolution  simply 
a  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion.  No  hint  is 
anywhere  given  that  the  formula  has  a  new  meaning 
when  we  come  into  the  realm  of  life  and  mind,  and 
hence  it  would  seem  that  life  and  mind  are  only  special 
cases  of  the  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion.  And 

334 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

a  large  part  of  the  exposition  agrees  with  this  view. 
Mental  phenomena  appear  only  in  connection  with 
material  phenomena,  and  both  disappear  together. 
Mental  action  is  a  function  of  nervous  organization 
and  disappears  along  with  it.  Thoughts  and  feelings 
are  only  the  inner  side  of  changes  in  nervous  vesicles 
and  would  vanish  along  with  them.  This  is  undoubt- 
edly the  doctrine  of  a  large  part  of  Mr.  Spencer's 
exposition,  and  this  is  what  the  plain  man  means 
by  materialism.  But  the  name  is  indifferent  so  long 
as  the  thing  is  understood.  If  the  redistribution  of 
matter  and  motion  includes  and  accounts  for  all 
phenomena,  then  the  world  will  continue  to  regard 
this  system  as  materialistic  in  spite  of  all  protests. 

To  put  it  otherwise,  a  system  might  be  materialistic 
from  its  doctrine  of  matter  or  from  its  doctrine  of 
mind.  Common,  crude  materialism  is  based  on  crude 
physical  conceptions  and  regards  matter  and  motion 
as  thus  conceived  as  an  adequate  explanation  of  mind, 
a  doctrine  which  Professor  Tyndall  declared  to  be 
absurd,  monstrous,  and  fit  only  for  the  intellectual 
gibbet.  Now,  Mr.  Spencer's  system  is  not  materialistic 
in  this  sense,  for  he  insists  that  matter  and  motion 
are  but  symbols  of  the  unknowable  reality,  and  that 
surely  leaves  them  mysterious  enough.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  system  may  be  judged  by  its  doctrine  of 
mind;  and  for  common  sense  any  view  which  makes 
mental  phenomena  functions  of  physical  organization 
is  materialistic,  no  matter  how  mysterious  its  doctrine 
of  matter  may  be.  Matter  may  be  only  a  symbol  and 
mind  may  be  only  a  symbol ;  but  if  the  matter-symbol  is 
relatively  first  and  independent,  and  the  mind-symbol 

335 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

is  made  to  depend  upon  the  matter-symbol,  then  we 
have  materialism  in  this  sense,  that  mind  is  made 
a  function  of  physical  organization  and  disappears 
when  the  organization  perishes.  In  this  sense  Mr. 
Spencer's  system  is  materialistic  throughout.  Mental 
phenomena  are  frequently  spoken  of  as  but  inner 
aspects  of  the  nervous  changes,  and  in  the  last  work 
which  Mr.  Spencer  wrote,  "Facts  and  Comments," 
he  says  definitely  that  he  sees  no  ground  for  thinking 
that  our  conscious  life  may  go  on  in  separation  from 
the  organism.  Here,  then,  is  the  source  of  those 
bewildering  denials  of  materialism  by  Mr.  Spencer 
which  many  have  found  so  confusing.  Judged  by  his 
doctrine  of  matter,  Mr.  Spencer  is  not  a  materialist; 
but  judged  by  his  doctrine  of  mind,  Mr.  Spencer 
would  certainly  seem  to  be  a  materialist.  Thus,  he 
says  in  his  work  on  "Psychology,"  when  considering 
the  question:  "Nevertheless,  it  maybe  as  well  to  say 
here,  once  for  all,  that  were  we  compelled  to  choose 
between  the  alternatives  of  translating  mental  phe- 
nomena into  physical  phenomena,  or  of  translating 
physical  phenomena  into  mental  phenomena,  the 
latter  alternative  would  seem  the  more  acceptable 
of  the  two.  Mind,  as  known  to  the  possessor  of  it,  is 
a  circumscribed  aggregate  of  activities;  and  the  co- 
hesion of  these  activities,  one  with  another,  through- 
out the  aggregate,  compels  the  postulation  of  a  some- 
thing of  which  they  are  the  activities.  But  the  same 
experiences  which  make  him  aware  of  this  coherent 
aggregate  of  mental  activities,  simultaneously  make 
him  aware  of  activities  that  are  not  included  in  it  — 
outlying  activities  which  become  known  by  their 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

effects  on  this  aggregate,  but  which  are  experimentally 
proved  to  be  not  coherent  with  it,  and  to  be  coherent 
with  one  another."  ("Principles  of  Psychology,"  vol. 
i,  p.  159.)  He  continues:  "If  units  of  external  force 
are  regarded  as  absolutely  unknown  and  unknowable, 
then  to  translate  units  of  feeling  into  them  is  to  trans- 
late the  known  into  the  unknown,  which  is  absurd. 
And  if  they  are  what  they  are  supposed  to  be  by 
those  who  identify  them  with  their  symbols,  then  the 
difficulty  of  translating  units  of  feeling  into  them  is 
insurmountable:  if  Force  as  it  objectively  exists  is 
absolutely  alien  in  nature  from  that  which  exists  sub- 
jectively as  Feeling,  then  the  transformation  of  Force 
into  Feeling  is  unthinkable.  Either  way,  therefore, 
it  is  impossible  to  interpret  inner  existence  in  terms 
of  outer  existence.  .  .  .  Hence,  though  of  the  two  it 
seems  easier  to  translate  so-called  Matter  into  so- 
called  Spirit,  than  to  translate  so-called  Spirit  into 
so-called  Matter  (which  latter  is,  indeed,  wholly  im- 
possible) ;  yet  no  translation  can  carry  us  beyond  our 
symbols."  (Pages  160-61.)  "When  the  two  modes 
of  Being  which  we  distinguish  as  Subject  and  Object, 
have  been  severally  reduced  to  their  lowest  terms, 
any  further  comprehension  must  be  an  assimilation  of 
these  lowest  terms  to  one  another;  and,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  this  is  negatived  by  the  very  distinction 
of  Subject  and  Object,  which  is  itself  the  consciousness 
of  a  difference  transcending  all  other  differences.  So 
far  from  helping  us  to  think  of  them  as  of  one  kind, 
analysis  serves  but  to  render  more  manifest  the  im- 
possibility of  finding  for  them  a  common  concept  —  a 
thought  under  which  they  can  be  united."  (Page  157.) 

337 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

Here  Mr.  Spencer  seems  very  definitely  to  exclude 
even  the  possibility  of  materialism.  We  have  the  sub- 
ject and  object  set  up  as  absolutely  antithetical,  so 
that  by  no  possibility  can  we  unite  the  two  under  a 
common  class  or  pass  from  one  to  the  other  by  any 
dynamic  relation.  Both,  alike,  are  also  represented  as 
being  incommensurable  modes  of  the  absolute  being. 
However,  it  is  difficult  to  unite  this  with  the  formula 
of  evolution.  There  everything  is  given  in  terms  of 
matter  and  motion,  and  if  this  is  to  be  taken  seriously, 
then  mental  facts  must  be  looked  upon  as  cases  of 
matter  and  motion,  or  at  least  as  effects  of  matter  and 
motion.  To  make  them  cases  of  matter  and  motion  is 
manifestly  absurd.  To  say  that  a  conception  in  ethics 
or  philosophy  or  metaphysical  speculation  is  a  case  of 
matter  and  motion  is  grotesque  nonsense;  for  in  that 
case  an  atom  or  molecule  or  group  of  molecules, 
grouping  and  moving  in  a  certain  direction  and  with  a 
certain  velocity,  would  be  the  conception  in  question. 
This  view  Mr.  Spencer  seems  very  definitely  to  set 
aside.  And  it  seems  equally  impossible  to  view  them 
as  produced  by  matter  and  motion,  seeing  that  they 
are  incommensurable  modes  of  the  Unknowable.  And 
this  makes  it  once  more  difficult  to  tell  what  the  law  of 
evolution  means  when  applied  to  these  phenomena. 
Certainly,  only  matter  and  motion  appear  in  the  defi- 
nition of  evolution,  and  with  equal  certainty  mental 
phenomena  cannot  be  identified  as  cases  or  as  pro- 
ducts of  matter  and  motion,  Mr.  Spencer  himself 
being  witness.  It  would  seem,  then,  that  they  must  be 
put  outside  of  the  evolution  movement,  if  these  utter- 
ances we  have  quoted  are  to  be  taken  seriously.  But 

338 


THE  LAW  OF  EVOLUTION 

this  is  really  only  another  instance  of  the  fundamental 
unclearness  of  Mr.  Spencer's  system.  The  conception 
of  explanation  by  classification,  as  we  have  seen,  gives 
really  no  insight  at  all,  and  the  explanation  by  causa- 
tion is  something  which  is  not  provided  for  in  this 
scheme. 


IV 

DOCTRINE   OF   LIFE   AND   MIND 

BETWEEN  the  inorganic  and  the  psychological 
realm  lies  the  field  of  Biology,  to  which  Mr.  Spencer 
devotes  two  volumes.  We  have  no  concern  with  this 
except  to  consider  his  doctrine  of  life.  In  accordance 
with  the  formula  of  Evolution,  life  is  to  be  expressed 
in  terms  of  matter  and  motion,  and  Mr.  Spencer 
seems  quite  determined  in  his  purpose  to  carry  this 
notion  through.  We  must  carefully  consider  the  pro- 
cess, as  this  progress  from  the  inorganic  to  the  organic 
is  one  of  the  crucial  points  in  traditional  naturalism. 
If  there  be  failure  here,  the  evolution  formula  fails  to 
include  anything  beyond  the  inorganic. 

In  beginning,  the  critic  is  much  embarrassed  in 
deciding  how  to  take  matter  and  motion.  We  have 
before  seen  how  uncertain  their  signification  is  in  the 
system.  According  to  Mr.  Spencer  they  are  symbols 
of  the  Unknowable,  and  we  have  found  it  very  hard  to 
tell  in  what  this  symbolism  consists.  But  however 
symbolic  they  may  be,  they  can  mean  anything  to  us 
only  as  there  is  a  real  movement  of  something  called 
matter  from  point  to  point  and  grouped  in  certain 
ways.  In  accordance  with  scientific  custom  also,  we 
regard  this  matter  as  at  least  approximately  of  mole- 
cular and  atomic  constitution.  Without  assuming  so 
much,  our  terms  have  not  sufficient  meaning  to  admit 
of  discussion.  If  the  Unknowable  interfere  with  the 

340 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

evolution  process,  then  a  transcendental  factor  and 
also  one  of  ignorance  are  introduced,  and  our  formula 
is  made  logically  worthless.  With  this  understanding 
of  the  meaning  of  the  terms,  we  proceed  to  inquire 
whether  we  can  in  any  way  understand  living  organ- 
isms with  their  powers  of  propagation,  heredity,  etc., 
as  explained  by  any  possible  differentiation  or  integra- 
tion of  matter  and  motion. 

In  the  first  edition  of  the  "Biology,"  Mr.  Spencer 
wrote,  nothing  doubting,  but  later,  when  pressed  by 
critics,  he  refers  to  two  volumes  on  Inorganic  Evolu- 
tion that  would  have  helped  matters  if  they  had  been 
written.  He  says:  "The  closing  chapter  of  the  second 
(of  these  volumes),  were  it  written,  would  deal  with  the 
evolution  of  organic  matter  —  the  step  preceding  the 
evolution  of  living  forms.  Habitually  carrying  with 
me  in  thought  the  contents  of  this  unwritten  chapter, 
I  have,  in  some  cases,  expressed  myself  as  though  the 
reader  had  it  before  him;  and  have  thus  rendered 
some  of  my  statements  liable  to  misconstructions." 
("Principles  of  Biology,"  vol.  i,  p.  480.)  It  may  be 
doubted,  however,  if  this  closing  chapter  would  much 
have  helped  us.  At  all  events,  we  have  to  get  on  with 
what  Mr.  Spencer  has  vouchsafed  us. 

In  the  inorganic  world  we  can  in  a  fashion  under- 
stand things  in  terms  of  matter  and  motion.  Given 
a  series  of  atoms,  we  can  conceive  the  molecule  as  a 
grouping  of  the  same;  and  given  a  series  of  molecules, 
we  can  understand  the  mass  as  a  grouping  of  the  mole- 
cules. So  much  seems  quite  possible  with  the  formula 
of  evolution,  but  there  the  progress  stops.  We  can 
pass  from  the  atom  to  the  molecule,  and  from  mole- 

341 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

cules  to  more  complex  molecules,  and  from  molecules 
of  whatever  complexity  to  masses  of  whatever  size. 
So  far  the  way  is  clear.  Mr.  Spencer  succeeds  in  get- 
ting further  than  this  by  passing  from  the  atom  to  the 
molecule  and  from  the  molecule  to  more  complex  mole- 
cules in  terms  of  matter  and  motion,  and  thereafter 
making  the  evolution  depend  upon  the  substitution  of 
semi-synonyms  and  of  terms  borrowed  from  the  bio- 
logical realm.  In  this  way  he  passes  from  the  complex 
molecules  to  organic  molecules,  and  from  organic  mole- 
cules to  organic  matter,  and  from  organic  matter  to 
organisms,  and  then,  being  well  over  into  the  bio- 
logical realm,  he  brings  in  other  biological  terms,  such 
as  propagation,  heredity,  and  the  like,  and  then  the 
deduction  of  life  from  the  non-living  is  complete. 

All  of  this  is  purely  verbal.  The  complex  molecule 
is  identified  with  the  organic  molecule  without  telling 
us  what  the  new  phrase  means.  If  it  means  anything 
more  than  complex  molecule  we  ought  to  have  it 
clearly  stated,  and  we  ought  to  be  shown  how  this 
difference  arises.  This  Mr.  Spencer  entirely  fails  to 
do.  In  a  letter  of  his  to  the  editor  of  the  "  North  Amer- 
ican Review,"  afterward  published  at  the  end  of  his 
first  volume  on  "Biology,"  Mr.  Spencer  seeks  to  break 
the  force  of  this  criticism  by  showing  how  organic 
molecules  or  organic  matter  is  produced  in  the  labo- 
ratory. He  appears  to  think  that  organic  matter  was 
first  produced,  though  how  he  does  not  tell  us.  The 
how  would  probably  have  been  explained  in  the  closing 
chapter  of  the  second  missing  volume  on  Inorganic 
Evolution,  which  was  to  deal  with  the  evolution  of 
[organic]  matter  —  the  step  preceding  the  evolution 

342 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

of  living  forms.  But  this  is  only  a  matter  of  sur- 
mise. In  the  letter  in  question  Mr.  Spencer  says: 
"That  organic  matter  was  not  produced  all  at  once, 
but  was  reached  through  steps,  we  are  well  warranted 
in  believing  by  the  experiences  of  chemists.  Organic 
matters  are  produced  in  the  laboratory  by  what  we 
may  literally  call  artificial  evolution.  Chemists  find 
themselves  unable  to  form  these  complex  combina- 
tions directly  from  their  elements;  but  they  succeed 
in  forming  them  indirectly,  by  successive  modifica- 
tions of  simpler  combinations.  ...  In  this  manner 
highly  complex  substances  are  eventually  built  up. 
Another  characteristic  of  their  method  is  no  less  sig- 
nificant. Two  complex  compounds  are  employed  to 
generate,  by  their  action  upon  one  another,  a  com- 
pound of  still  greater  complexity:  different  hetero- 
geneous molecules  of  one  stage,  become  parents  of  a 
molecule  a  stage  higher  in  heterogeneity."  (Page  482.) 
Here  Mr.  Spencer  assumes  that  the  production  of 
organic  molecules  in  the  laboratory  is  significant  for 
his  doctrine  of  evolution.  But  the  fact  is,  these  or- 
ganic molecules  mean  only  complex  molecules  com- 
monly found  in  connection  with  organisms,  and  which, 
until  comparatively  recently,  could  not  be  artificially 
formed  by  the  chemist;  but  these  molecules  are  not 
organisms.  They  have  no  power  of  generation,  and 
they  are  not  alive  any  more  than  the  inorganic  mole- 
cules. A  molecule  of  uric  acid  is  no  more  alive  than  a 
molecule  of  ferric  oxide;  it  maybe  more  complicated, 
but  then  its  properties  are  all  due  to  the  definite  sizes, 
shapes,  and  motions  of  the  component  elements  in 
both  cases.  Such  organic  molecules  can  be  described 

343 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

in  terms  of  matter  and  motion,  and  they  are  in  reality 
only  complex  molecules.  Further,  Mr.  Spencer  uses 
two  phrases  which  illustrate  his  tendency  to  slide  over 
into  the  biological  realm  without  notice.  He  says, 
"Two  complex  compounds  are  employed  to  generate, 
by  their  action  upon  one  another,  a  compound  of  still 
greater  complexity."  And  "different  heterogeneous 
molecules  of  one  stage,  become  parents  of  a  molecule 
a  stage  higher  in  heterogeneity."  If  we  allow  these 
phrases  to  remain  or  pass  unchallenged,  we  might  sup- 
pose that  we  were  in  the  vital  realm.  We  have  gen- 
eration and  parentage  spoken  of.  But  here  again  we 
must  insist  that  these  phrases  shall  be  interpreted 
in  terms  of  matter  and  motion  or  else  abandoned. 
Now,  when  molecules  are  employed  to  "generate"  a 
compound  of  still  greater  complexity,  the  whole  pro- 
cess admits  of  being  described  in  terms  of  matter  and 
motion,  that  is,  different  molecules  of  definite  shapes 
and  sizes  and  motions  unite  with  others,  also  of  defi- 
nite shapes  and  sizes  and  motions,  to  produce  a  com- 
pound, of  which  also  the  elements  have  definite  shapes 
and  sizes  and  motions,  and  these  could  be  geometri- 
cally and  mathematically  described,  were  our  vision 
and  knowledge  sufficiently  penetrating.  But  in  all 
this  is  there  no  more  of  "generation"  and  "parent- 
age," in  the  biological  sense,  than  there  is  when  sul- 
phur unites  with  oxygen  to  form  sulphuric  acid,  or 
when  iron  rusts;  and  the  resulting  compounds  are  no 
more  alive  in  one  case  than  in  the  other.  With  this 
result  we  reach  nothing  that  can  be  called  truly  living, 
that  is,  nothing  which  has  feeling  or  anything  else 
that  is  not  a  matter  of  shape,  size,  and  motion  of  the 

344 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

elements.  If  we  insist  on  knowing  what  there  is  more 
in  the  case  than  shapes,  sizes,  and  elements,  we  are 
not  told;  or  if  we  insist  on  knowing  how  a  modifica- 
tion of  shapes,  sizes,  and  motions  can  produce  the 
difference  between  the  living  and  the  non-living, 
again  we  are  not  told. 

We  might,  then,  insist  upon  Mr.  Spencer  telling  us 
what  the  distinction  is  between  a  complex  molecule 
and  an  organic  molecule,  and  on  interpreting  the  dif- 
ference in  terms  of  matter  and  motion.  If  the  organic 
is  reduced  to  a  geometrical  problem  of  shapes,  sizes, 
and  motions,  clearly  we  have  not  reached  anything 
that  can  be  called  living,  and  if  to  be  alive  is  some- 
thing that  is  not  a  matter  of  shapes,  sizes,  and  mo- 
tions, then  it  stands  outside  of  the  range  of  Mr. 
Spencer's  formula  of  evolution.  The  only  distinction 
between  the  living  and  the  dead,  if  matter  and  motion 
alone  are  concerned,  would  be  a  purely  phenomenal 
one.  The  so-called  living  body  would  have  certain 
phenomena  that  so-called  inorganic  bodies  do  not 
possess,  but  there  would  be  no  more  true  vitality  in 
one  case  than  in  the  other.  Yet  Mr.  Spencer,  as  the 
result  of  these  considerations,  finds  a  remarkable 
parallelism  between  evolution  in  the  organic  world 
and  in  the  vital  world.  He  says:  "See,  then,  the  re- 
markable parallelism.  The  progress  towards  higher 
types  of  organic  molecules  is  effected  by  modifica- 
tions upon  modifications;  as  throughout  Evolution  in 
general.  Each  of  these  modifications  is  a  change  of  the 
molecule  into  equilibrium  with  its  environment  —  an 
adaptation,  as  it  were,  to  new  surrounding  conditions 
to  which  it  is  subjected;  as  throughout  Evolution  in 

345 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

general.  Larger,  or  more  integrated,  aggregates  (for 
compound  molecules  are  such)  are  successively  gener- 
ated; as  throughout  Evolution  in  general.  ...  A  geo- 
metrically increasing  multitude  of  these  larger  and 
more  complex  aggregates  so  produced,  at  the  same  time 
results;  as  throughout  Evolution  in  general.  And  it  is 
by  the  action  of  the  successively  higher  forms  on  one 
another,  joined  with  the  action  of  environing  condi- 
tions, that  the  highest  forms  are  reached;  as  through- 
out Evolution  in  general."  (Page  483.)  Here  again 
we  see  the  wisdom  of  using  the  terms  of  organization. 
There  is  a  "progress  towards  higher  types  of  organic 
molecules  which  is  effected  by  modifications  upon 
modifications."  "There  is  adaptation  to  new  sur- 
rounding conditions,"  etc. 

Here  again  everything  is  unclear.  If  for  organic 
we  read  complex,  which  is  all  we  are  allowed  to  do,  the 
progress  ceases.  The  "  higher  types  "  also  are  things  of 
doubtful  meaning  in  chemical  science  and  are  really 
borrowed  from  biology.  In  chemistry  all  they  could 
mean  would  be  molecules  of  greater  complexity,  not 
molecules  more  nearly  alive.  Again,  Mr.  Spencer 
speaks  of  later  molecules  being  generated  and  rising 
out  of  previous  conditions,  but  these  terms  also  are 
treacherous.  In  inorganic  chemistry,  when  certain 
molecules  generate  other  molecules  or  rise  out  of  other 
molecules,  it  means  only  that  the  same  elements  are 
differently  combined.  There  is  no  more  generation 
than  there  is  when  a  pile  of  bricks  is  thrown  down  and 
piled  up  again  in  another  form.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  "  modifications  upon  modifications  "  spoken  of.  It 
is  easy,  when  we  bear  the  biological  goal  in  mind,  to 

346 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

think  that  in  this  way  we  are  advancing  toward  life, 
but  when  our  thought  remains  clear,  all  that  happens 
is  that  certain  combinations  disintegrate  and  certain 
other  combinations  take  their  place;  and  the  same  is 
true  of  the  statement  that  through  these  modifica- 
tions the  molecule  passes  into  equilibrium  with  its 
environment.  If  we  have  a  tacit  reference  to  living 
things  in  our  thought  when  we  use  this  language,  we 
seem  to  be  progressing  again  toward  life,  but  it  is  only 
as  we  keep  our  thought  unclear  that  this  is  possible. 
In  inorganic  chemical  combination  the  equilibrium 
of  a  molecule  with  its  environment  depends  upon  har- 
monies of  shape,  size,  and  movement,  and  when  such 
harmonies  are  broken  up,  new  combinations  are  pro- 
duced of  other  shapes,  sizes,  and  movements;  but 
there  is  nothing  of  life  in  these,  and  this  is  all  that 
the  passage  of  a  molecule  into  equilibrium  with  its 
environment  can  mean,  if  the  passage  is  to  be  in- 
terpreted in  terms  of  matter  and  motion.  But  this 
would  not  help  us  in  the  least  toward  reaching  truly 
biological  conceptions  of  organisms,  really  alive  and 
able  to  propagate  themselves  in  one  way  or  another. 
But  by  these  chemical  illustrations,  which  do  not 
really  illustrate,  Mr.  Spencer  is  encouraged.  It  seems 
possible  to  him  to  produce  organic  matter,  and  then  it 
ought  not  to  be  difficult  to  produce  organisms.  He 
argues  as  follows:  "When  we  thus  see  the  identity  of 
method  at  the  two  extremes,  —  when  we  see  that  the 
general  laws  of  evolution,  as  they  are  exemplified  in 
known  organisms,  have  been  unconsciously  conformed 
to  by  chemists  in  the  artificial  evolution  of  organic 
matter,  —  we  can  scarcely  doubt  that  these  laws  were 

347 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

conformed  to  in  the  natural  evolution  of  organic  mat- 
ter, and  afterwards  in  the  evolution  of  the  simplest 
organic  forms.   In  the  early  world,  as  in  the  modern 
laboratory,  inferior  types  of  organic  substances,  by 
their  mutual  actions  under  fit  conditions,  evolved  the 
superior  types  of  organic  substances,  ending  in  or- 
ganizable  protoplasm.   And  it  can  hardly  be  doubted 
that  the  shaping  of  organizable  protoplasm,  which  is 
a  substance  modifiable  in  multitudinous  ways  with 
extreme  facility,  went  on  after  the  same  manner.  .  .  . 
Exposed  to  those  innumerable  modifications  of  con- 
ditions which  the  Earth's  surface  afforded,  here  in 
amount  of  light,  there  in  amount  of  heat,  and  else- 
where in  the  mineral  quality  of  its  aqueous  medium, 
this  extremely  changeable  substance  must  have  under- 
gone now  one,  now  another,  of  its  countless  metamor- 
phoses.   And  to  the  mutual  influences  of  its  meta- 
morphic  forms   under  favoring  conditions,  we  may 
ascribe  the  production  of  the  still  more  composite, 
still  more  sensitive,  still  more  variously  changeable 
portions  of  organic  matter,  which,  in  masses  more 
minute  and  simpler  than  existing  Protozoa,  displayed 
actions  verging  little  by  little  into  those  called  vital  - 
actions  which  protein  itself  exhibits  in  a  certain  degree, 
and  which  the  lowest  known  living  things  exhibit  only 
in  a  greater  degree.    Thus,  setting  out  with  induc- 
tions from  the  experiences  of  organic  chemists  at  the 
one  extreme,  and  with  inductions  from  the  observ- 
ations of  biologists  at  the  other  extreme,  we  are  en- 
abled deductively  to  bridge  the  interval — are  enabled 
to  conceive  how  organic  compounds  were  evolved, 
and  how,  by  a  continuance  of  the  process,  the  nascent 

348 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

life  displayed  in  these  became  gradually  more  pro- 
nounced."    (Page  483.) 

This,  too,  is  interesting,  but  the  matter  is  not 
helped.  We  observe  in  this  long  quotation  some  new 
terms  and  phrases  creeping  in,  without,  so  far  as  can 
be  discovered,  any  biological  warrant.  We  have  or- 
ganic matter  produced  in  abundance,  and  then  the 
simplest  organic  forms  appear.  The  organism  is  also 
spoken  of.  Inferior  and  superior  types  of  organic 
substances  are  mentioned,  "ending  in  organizable 
protoplasm,"  and  this,  in  addition  to  being  extremely 
mobile,  appears  to  be  sensitive  and  displays  "actions 
verging  little  by  little  into  those  called  vital,"  and 
thus  we  "are  enabled  to  conceive  how  organic  com- 
pounds are  evolved,  and  how  by  a  continuance  of  the 
process  the  nascent  life  displayed  in  these  became 
gradually  more  and  more  pronounced."  But  it  is  all 
to  no  purpose.  These  biological  terms  are  simply 
dragged  in  without  being  deduced.  The  complex  mole- 
cule and  masses  of  complex  molecules  are  as  far  as 
we  get,  and  all  the  rest  consists  simply  in  a  substi- 
tution of  semi-synonyms  which  are  very  far  from 
being  synonyms,  and  thus  by  this  verbal  stair  we 
climb  victoriously  from  the  inorganic  to  the  organic. 
Nothing  whatever  is  done  that  throws  the  slightest 
light  upon  truly  vital  phenomena,  such  as  feeling, 
propagation,  growth,  heredity,  and  the  like.  We  are 
simply  told  that  the  beginnings  of  life  were  in  exceed- 
ingly minute  portions  of  organic  matter,  and  these  we 
subject  to  "innumerable  modifications  of  condition," 
and  then  we  are  left  to  infer  that  in  some  way,  not 
specified,  something  happened,  we  don't  know  what, 

349 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

in  ways  we  can't  tell,  but  nevertheless  so  happened 
that  life  was  deduced  "as  in  Evolution  in  general." 
However,  even  here  the  path  of  logic  is  clear.  What- 
ever did  happen  must  be  viewed  as  a  combination  of 
matter  and  motion,  and  it  is  perfectly  plain  that  no 
combination  of  matter  and  motion  can  ever  represent 
that  which  is  neither  matter  nor  motion.  Instead  of 
laboring  thus  strenuously  to  deduce  that  which  re- 
fuses to  be  deduced  by  any  known  logical  method, 
Mr.  Spencer  should  have  fallen  back  upon  the  per- 
sistence of  force,  and  told  us  that  matter  and  motion 
must  have  produced  living  things  because  there  is  no- 
thing else  in  the  evolution  formula,  and  to  deny  that 
they  have  produced  living  things  would  have  been  to 
deny  the  persistence  of  force.  This  would  have  been 
shorter  and  more  effective  than  the  way  actually 
taken.  We  must  say,  therefore,  that  Mr.  Spencer  has 
not  succeeded  in  any  way  in  interpreting  the  facts  of 
life  in  terms  of  matter  and  motion.  As  before  pointed 
out,  we  can  see  how  complex  compounds  arise,  but  we 
cannot  see  how  they  can  display  any  life,  or  how  "the 
nascent  life  which  they  display  becomes  gradually 
more  and  more  pronounced,"  or  how  the  highly  com- 
plex molecules  become  "more  sensitive,  and  display 
actions  verging  little  by  little  into  those  called  vital." 
We  get  stalled  at  the  complex  molecule,  and  we  are 
not  helped  in  any  way  by  what  is  said  about  the 
amazing  complexity  and  mobility  of  "organizable 
protoplasm."  So  long  as  we  regard  these  from  the 
mechanical  side,  as  phases  of  matter  and  motion, 
nothing  whatever  that  can  be  expressed  in  these 
terms  is  really  alive.  It  is  simply  and  only  a  highly 

350 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

complicated,  unstable  compound  without  any  proper 
sensibility  or  life  whatever. 

And  still  more  manifest  is  the  failure  of  the  formula 
when  we  come  to  the  facts  of  mind.  Here  again,  if  we 
are  to  give  matter  and  motion  any  assignable  meaning, 
there  is  no  possibility  of  interpreting  mental  facts  in 
these  terms.  This  we  have  sufficiently  pointed  out. 
To  say  that  a  given  conception  or  proposition,  say  a 
theorem  in  geometry  or  a  conception  in  mechanics, 
is  a  case  of  matter  and  motion,  or  is  in  any  way  made 
more  intelligible  to  us  when  called  a  case  of  matter  and 
motion,  is  absurd,  as  Mr.  Spencer  himself  would  admit. 
When,  then,  we  are  told  that  the  evolution  formula 
aims  to  exhibit  everything  in  terms  of  matter  and 
motion,  we  are  very  much  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
meaning  is  to  be  given  to  these  terms.  Matter  and  mo- 
tion in  some  sense  we  know,  and  thought  we  know, 
but  the  impossibility  of  assimilating  them  to  one  an- 
other is,  as  Mr.  Spencer  has  said  in  the  quotations 
already  given,  absolute.  To  formulate  in  terms  of 
matter  and  motion  things  which  are  absolutely  in- 
commensurable with  matter  and  motion  is  certainly 
a  problem  of  great  difficulty.  How,  then,  is  the  for- 
mula to  be  retained  and  maintained  in  reference  to 
the  mental  life?  We  may  get  some  sort  of  an  answer 
to  this  question  when  we  come  to  speak  of  the  doctrine 
of  psycho-physical  parallelism. 

Assuming,  however,  that  we  have  reached  the  fron- 
tiers of  psychology,  Mr.  Spencer  says  that  if  evolu- 
tion is  true  we  can  understand  mind  only  by  observing 
how  it  is  evolved.  Mind,  as  it  exists  in  man,  is  a  late 
and  highly  complex  product.  We  must  study  it,  there- 

351 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

fore,  in  its  manifestations  in  the  earlier  forms  of  life 
if  we  would  really  understand  it.  It  is  not  easy  to 
give  this  statement  a  tenable  meaning,  because  of  the 
fact  that  mind  is  something  which  can  never  be  ob- 
jectively presented,  and  which  can  be  known  only 
from  the  inside.  Indeed,  the  only  mind  of  which  any 
one  has  direct  knowledge  is  his  own,  and  he  under- 
stands all  other  minds  only  as  he  assimilates  the  act- 
ivities in  connection  with  those  other  minds  to  his 
own  inner  life.  He  must,  therefore,  have  the  key  in 
himself  if  he  is  ever  to  understand  mind  at  all.  In 
connection  with  the  lower  orders  of  animal  life  the 
study  from  the  outside  is  peculiarly  difficult  because 
of  this  fact.  We  have  a  tendency  to  fall  into  what 
we  may  call  biological  anthropomorphism.  We  can 
understand  the  animal  mind,  of  course,  only  as  we 
assimilate  it  to  our  own,  but  how  far  this  assimilation 
may  go  is  very  far  from  self-evident.  For  example, 
shall  we  look  upon  the  social  life  of  the  ants  and  the 
bees  as  indicating  anything  like  the  intelligence  that 
similar  combinations  would  imply  among  men?  If 
so,  we  must  attribute  to  them  a  very  high  order  of 
mentality;  but  if  we  are  not  willing  to  do  this,  then 
all  possibility  of  understanding  them  is  excluded,  and 
nothing  remains  but  to  use  some  such  word  as  instinct, 
which  is  an  idea  without  any  positive  contents,  a 
word  whereby  we  try  to  split  the  difference  between 
the  complex  activities  of  mind  and  the  purely  mechan- 
ical activities  of  the  inorganic  world.  It  seems  clear, 
then,  that  the  attempt  to  understand  our  minds  by 
study  of  the  lower  orders  of  mind  must  be  somewhat 
seriously  discounted.  At  all  events,  we  must  be  con- 

352 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

tinually  on  our  guard  against  mistaking  some  inter- 
pretation of  our  own  for  the  objective  fact  in  the 
animal  world.  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  that  world, 
though  in  some  respects  very  near  us,  is  in  some  other 
respects  very  far  removed.  We  cannot  enter  into  its 
feelings,  aims,  and  sympathies  with  any  measure  of 
justified  assurance. 

However,  supposing  evolution  to  be  the  fact,  Mr. 
Spencer  thinks  that  mind  will  be  best  understood 
when  we  assimilate  it  to  that  stage  of  evolution  which 
lies  nearest  to  it.  And  this  he  finds  in  life.  Accord- 
ingly, we  shall  get  most  light  upon  our  mental  life  if 
we  study  the  order  of  life  which  is  the  adjacent  phase 
of  the  great  evolution  movement.  Accordingly,  he 
reproduces  the  definition  of  life,  which  he  now  extends 
to  include  mind.  The  definition  of  life  is  as  follows: 
"Life  is  the  definite  combination  of  heterogeneous 
changes,  both  simultaneous  and  successive,  in  corre- 
spondence with  external  coexistences  and  sequences." 
This,  for  sake  of  convenience,  is  afterward  cut  down 
to  the  form  that  life  is  "the  continuous  adjustment 
of  internal  relations  to  external  relations."  He  next 
proceeds  to  show  that  this  formula  applies  equally 
to  the  process  of  mental  evolution,  which  also  is  an 
adjustment  of  internal  relations  to  external  relations. 
In  a  series  of  eleven  chapters  of  great  apparent  thor- 
oughness he  illustrates  this  formula.  The  continuous 
adjustment  he  calls  correspondence  and  declares  that 
it  grows  in  heterogeneity  in  space,  in  time,  in  specialty 
(the  special  senses),  in  generality,  and  in  complexity. 
These  corresponding  senses  are  thus  coordinated  and 
integrated.  Such  is  mind,  an  adjustment  of  inner  to 

353 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

outer  relations.  The  polyp  responds  only  to  present 
stimuli,  and  to  all  alike.  The  bee  looks  only  for  honey 
and  wax,  and  stores  up  food  for  winter.  Here  the 
correspondence  is  extended  in  time.  The  bird  corre- 
sponds to  the  things  about  it,  and  also  to  the  better 
climate  far  away.  As  winter  approaches,  it  leaves  its 
home  in  the  North  and  flies  to  the  South.  Here  we 
see  the  correspondence  increasing  in  space.  Man 
corresponds  variously  through  his  special  senses  and 
also  in  his  increasing  range  of  knowledge  through 
space  and  time.  The  physicist  thinks  of  events  in 
the  past  and  future,  thus  corresponding  to  events 
at  remote  distances  in  time.  He  also  corresponds  to 
things  in  space,  to  changes  in  the  sun,  or  to  events 
going  on  in  remote  sidereal  regions,  but  it  is  through- 
out correspondence.  And  it  grows  in  exactness  also 
as  well  as  in  range.  The  old  astronomer  foretold, 
though  in  a  rude  way,  what  would  be.  The  modern 
astronomer  fixes  the  day,  the  hour,  and  the  minute, 
and  when  the  time  comes,  he  is  on  hand  with  his 
instruments  to  correspond  to  changes  in  Venus  or 
Mars,  or  in  the  moon  or  the  sun.  And  so  through 
the  whole  field  of  science,  the  correspondence  grows 
in  space,  time,  exactness,  complexity,  etc. 

This  is  a  magnificent  and  very  imposing  formula. 
We  see  that,  in  a  way,  the  mental  process  may  be  de- 
scribed as  a  correspondence  of  inner  relations  to  outer 
relations,  and  we  see  how  the  correspondence  grows, 
"  as  in  Evolution  in  general,"  from  more  to  more,  in- 
creasing in  complexity  and  definiteness  and  range,  and 
yet  it  is  all  the  while  essentially  a  correspondence  of 
inner  relations  to  outer  relations. 

354 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

The  question,  however,  may  arise,  whether  this 
vague  description,  after  all,  gives  us  any  real  insight, 
whether  we  did  not  know  as  much  before  as  after  this 
new  formulation.  The  shortcomings  of  the  formula 
are  manifest,  first,  in  this :  it  limits  the  mind  to  the  sole 
function  of  perception,  or  the  cognition  of  objective 
fact.  All  sentiment  and  impulses  of  affection,  or  re- 
ligion and  aesthetics,  are  left  out.  In  our  experience, 
this  judging  of  outward  facts  is  a  very  small  part  of 
mental  life;  but  this  view  excludes  beauty,  morals, 
affection,  religion,  wit,  etc.,  and  leaves  us  nothing  but 
history  and  statistics.  But  we  omit  to  press  this  ques- 
tion, and  inquire  whether  the  formula  has  any  real 
meaning  or  whether  it  means  the  same  thing  in  the 
case  of  life  and  mind. 

First,  in  the  case  of  life.  The  distinction,  as  it 
stands,  is  too  broad.  The  elements  under  the  law  of 
gravitation  are  beautifully  adjusted  to  one  another. 
The  oxygen  that  unites  with  iron  is  perfectly  adjusted. 
The  parasite  that  feeds  on  something  else  is  adjusted. 
Adjustment,  then,  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  intelli- 
gence or  to  life,  but  it  is  the  adjustment  of  inner  rela- 
tions to  outer  relations.  Now,  what  does  this  mean 
in  the  case  of  a  living  thing?  What  is  meant  by  inner 
and  what  by  outer?  We  certainly  cannot,  in  the  case 
of  the  organism,  make  inner  to  mean  inside  of  the 
spatial  limits  of  the  body,  as  in  that  case  a  pin  swal- 
lowed by  a  child  would  be  inner,  and  effete  matter 
not  yet  excreted  would  likewise  be  inner.  But  clearly, 
inner,  organically  considered,  can  only  mean  that 
which  is  comprised  within  the  control  of  some  vital 
principle.  That,  then,  is  inner  which  is  contributing 

855 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

to  the  sum  of  vital  functions,  and  that  is  outer  which 
no  longer  assists  in  the  performance  of  those  func- 
tions. The  organism  contains  a  large  amount  of  ma- 
terial which  is  not  inner  in  this  sense.  All  matter  not 
yet  assimilated,  and  all  matter  that  has  performed  its 
functions  and  is  now  being  removed  from  the  organ- 
ism, is  outer.  Plainly,  then,  we  can  define  inner  and 
outer  not  spatially,  but  only  with  reference  to  some 
vital  principle;  that  is  to  say,  the  definition  of  life  as 
a  correspondence  of  internal  relations  to  external  re- 
lations presupposes  life  itself  as  the  condition  of  its 
having  any  proper  meaning. 

That  inner  and  outer  have  not  the  same  meaning 
when  we  pass  to  mind  is  also  manifest.  Internal  rela- 
tions here  again  mean  only  thought  and  consciousness. 
In  no  other  assignable  sense  are  thoughts  inner  and 
things  outer.  The  inner  here  is  the  inner  of  knowledge 
and  the  outer  is  the  outer  of  objectivity.  They  have 
no  space  relations  of  any  sort  whatever.  In  that  case, 
then,  it  is  manifest  that  the  definition  of  mind  implies 
knowledge  and  conscious  knowing  itself.  Given  such 
knowledge,  we  may  proceed  to  adjust  ourselves  to  the 
environment  and  we  may  equally  proceed  to  adjust 
the  environment  to  ourselves.  But  the  definition  it- 
self is  meaningless  until  we  bring  into  it  the  very 
thing  to  be  defined. 

This  result  is  rather  depressing.  We  have  here  a 
definition  of  mind  which  is  made  identical  with  that 
of  life,  whereas  the  two  are  widely  different  and  dis- 
tinct, and  then  we  have  a  definition  that  implies  mind 
itself  as  its  condition.  The  vast  range  of  illustration 
of  the  extension  of  the  range  of  correspondence  and 

356 


DOCTRINE  OF  LIFE  AND  MIND 

the  like  is  true  in  a  fashion,  but  it  merely  puts  most 
commonplace  matter  into  stilted,  operose  language. 
Of  course,  knowledge  grows,  and  it  grows  in  all  direc- 
tions. It  becomes  more  penetrating,  more  extensive, 
more  specialized,  more  exact.  This  is  fairly  familiar 
to  the  wayfaring  man,  and  it  is  not  made  any  more 
valuable  by  being  described  as  the  correspondence  of 
inner  relations  to  outer  relations,  or  as  being  said  to 
increase  in  heterogeneity  in  space,  in  time,  in  com- 
plexity, and  to  be  variously  integrated  and  differen- 
tiated. All  this  is  only  trying  to  make  familiar  and 
commonplace  matter  seem  new  by  the  device  of  a 
pompous  and  sonorous  terminology. 

In  leaving  this  topic  an  extraordinary  passage  may 
be  quoted,  in  which  Mr.  Spencer  seems  to  give  an 
explanation  of  consciousness.  He  says:  "For  how 
only  can  the  constituent  changes  of  any  complex  cor- 
respondence be  coordinated?  Those  abilities  which  an 
intelligent  creature  possesses,  of  recognizing  diverse 
external  objects  and  of  adjusting  its  actions  to  com- 
posite phenomena  of  various  kinds,  imply  a  power  of 
combining  many  separate  impressions.  These  separ- 
ate impressions  are  received  by  the  senses  —  by  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  body.  If  they  go  no  further  than  the 
places  at  which  they  are  received,  they  are  useless. 
Or  if  only  some  of  them  are  brought  into  relation  with 
one  another,  they  are  useless.  That  an  effectual  ad- 
justment may  be  made,  they  must  all  be  brought  into 
relation  with  one  another.  But  this  implies  some  cen- 
tre of  communication  common  to  them  all,  through 
which  they  severally  pass;  and  as  they  cannot  pass 
through  it  simultaneously,  they  must  pass  through 

357 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

it  in  succession.  So  that  as  the  external  phenomena 
responded  to  become  greater  in  number  and  more 
complicated  in  kind,  the  variety  and  rapidity  of  the 
changes  to  which  this  common  centre  of  communica- 
tion is  subject  must  increase  —  there  must  result  an 
unbroken  series  of  these  changes  —  there  must  arise 
a  consciousness."  ("Principles  of  Psychology,"  vol. 
i,  p.  403.)  It  is  doubtful  if  any  one  but  Mr.  Spen- 
cer himself  could  trace  the  connection  between  the 
premises  and  the  conclusion;  and  most  probably  he 
would  do  it  by  falling  back  on  the  persistence  of  force 
and  the  conviction  that  hence  it  must  be  so. 

Psycho-Physical  Parallelism 

Mr.  Spencer  begins  his  "Psychology"  with  an  ac- 
count in  five  chapters  of  the  structure  and  functions 
of  the  nervous  system.  The  scientific  accuracy  of  this 
does  not  concern  us.  Then  follows  a  chapter  on 
"^stho-Physiology."  He  says:  — 

"Throughout  the  foregoing  chapters  nervous  phe- 
nomena have  been  formulated  in  terms  of  Matter  and 
Motion.  .  .  .  Now,  however,  we  turn  to  a  totally 
distinct  aspect  of  our  subject.  There  lies  before  us  a 
class  of  facts  absolutely  without  any  perceptible  or 
conceivable  community  of  nature  with  the  facts  that 
have  occupied  us.  The  truths  here  to  be  set  down  are 
truths  of  which  the  very  elements  are  unknown  to 
physical  science.  Objective  observation  and  analysis 
fail  us;  and  subjective  observation  and  analysis  must 
supplement  them. 

"In  other  words,  we  have  to  treat  of  nervous  phe- 
nomena as  phenomena  of  consciousness.  The  changes 

358 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

which,  regarded  as  modes  of  the  Non-Ego,  have  been 
expressed  in  terms  of  motion,  have  now,  regarded  as 
modes  of  the  Ego,  to  be  expressed  in  terms  of  feeling. 
Having  contemplated  these  changes  on  their  outsides, 
we  have  to  contemplate  them  from  their  insides." 
("Principles  of  Psychology,"  vol.  i,  p.  97.)  This  pas- 
sage is  a  little  embarrassing,  as  presenting  us  with 
truths  of  which  the  very  elements  are  unknown  to 
physical  science  and  which  are  without  any  percept- 
ible or  conceivable  community  of  nature  with  the 
facts  that  have  occupied  us.  This  is  certainly  a  very 
distinct  affirmation  that  the  facts  in  question  cannot 
be  described  in  terms  of  matter  and  motion,  however 
much  this  may  be  possible  with  nervous  phenomena. 
We  are  not  entirely  relieved  here  by  remembering  that 
Mr.  Spencer  has  called  the  mental  phenomena  and 
physical  phenomena  opposite  symbols  of  the  one  un- 
knowable reality;  for  that  view  left  the  mental  and 
physical  much  farther  apart  than  Mr.  Spencer  him- 
self aims  to  do.  In  the  passage  quoted,  Mr.  Spencer 
speaks  of  nervous  phenomena  as  phenomena  of  con- 
sciousness, or  as  being  nervous  phenomena  on  the 
outside,  and  forms  of  feeling  from  the  inside.  This 
introduces  us  to  the  problem  of  the  relation  of  the 
physical  and  the  mental  series  of  facts  and  changes 
in  Spencer's  view. 

The  notion  of  a  double-faced  substance  has  existed 
in  philosophy  since  the  time  of  Spinoza,  who  first  gave 
it  pronounced  formulation,  but  even  in  his  view  the 
matter  is  quite  unclearly  conceived.  According  to 
him,  there  is  one  substance  with  two  attributes, 
thought  and  extension,  and  these  two  are  supposed 

359 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

to  lie  parallel.  On  the  relation  of  these  attributes 
Spinoza  is  unclear.  An  attribute  in  his  system  is  de- 
fined as  expressing  the  essence  of  the  thing.  In  that 
case,  when  we  have  two  incommensurable  attributes, 
like  thought  and  extension,  each  expressing  the  es- 
sence of  the  thing,  we  are  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
becomes  of  the  unity  of  the  substance.  It  would 
seem  that  incommensurable  attributes  would  imply 
incommensurable  essences,  and  thus  the  unity  of 
the  substance  would  disappear.  Moreover,  accord- 
ing to  Spinoza,  the  thing-attribute  and  the  thought- 
attribute  are  mutually  independent.  All  that  takes 
place  in  the  world  of  things  is  due  to  antecedent  con- 
ditions in  the  world  of  things;  and  all  that  takes  place 
in  the  world  of  thought  is  due  to  antecedent  condi- 
tions in  the  world  of  thought;  but  neither  one  of  these 
attributes  affects  the  other.  Each  series  goes  along  by 
itself.  But  in  that  case  the  thing-attribute  is  at  once 
made  useless  in  the  explanation  of  experience,  and 
also  impossible;  for  all  knowledge  and  experience  lie 
within  the  thought-attribute,  and  as  things  never 
affect  thought  we  have  no  reason  whatever  for  affirm- 
ing things.  Thus  we  should  be  shut  up  at  once  to  pure 
idealism.  At  times,  however,  Spinoza  has  a  different 
view  of  the  attributes,  according  to  which  they  are 
the  same  substance  seen  from  different  points  of  view. 
The  substance  itself  is  one;  but,  seen  from  one  point 
of  view,  it  is  extension;  seen  from  another  point  of 
view,  it  is  thought.  But  we  are  no  better  off  than 
before;  for  whereas  before  we  had  two  incommens- 
urable attributes,  we  now  have  two  incommensurable 
ways  of  looking  at  the  one,  so  as  to  see  it  double.  The 

360 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

doubleness,  then,  appears  to  be  a  kind  of  illusion  of 
very  obscure  origin.  And  even  the  doubleness  cannot 
be  known  as  such  unless  there  be  something  which 
transcends  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  unite  the  two,  and 
this  could  be  done  only  by  thought  again;  in  which 
case  we  should  have  not  merely  thought  and  extension 
as  different  ways  of  viewing  the  subject,  but  we  should 
also  have  another  thought  of  a  higher  order  which 
should  at  once  produce  and  overcome  the  resultant 
duality.  How  this  can  be, Spinoza  never  told  us:  first, 
because  he  apparently  never  thought  of  it,  and,  sec- 
ondly, because  he  could  not  have  told  us  had  the 
matter  been  called  to  his  attention. 

In  modern  times  this  same  notion  of  a  double- 
faced  substance  has  reappeared,  with  some  difference, 
but  with  equal  obscurity.  With  Spinoza  the  sub- 
stance was  rather  statically  conceived,  and  thought 
and  extension  were  the  static  attributes  of  the  one 
substance.  With  Mr.  Spencer  the  fundamental  real- 
ity is  dynamically  conceived.  It  is  an  all-embracing 
energy  on  which  all  phenomena  depend  and  from 
which  they  forever  proceed.  At  the  same  time  this 
substance  seems  to  have  the  double  mode  of  mani- 
festation, the  mode  of  extension  and  the  mode  of  life 
and  thought.  If  we  ask  how  there  come  to  be  two 
modes,  we  should  find  no  answer  beyond  the  affirma- 
tion of  the  fact  that  one  and  the  same  fundamental 
reality  underlies  the  world  of  extension  and  that  of 
life  and  thought.  If  we  should  next  ask  how  the  dual- 
ity of  these  modes  provides  for  the  validity  of  know- 
ledge, we  should  get  no  answer  whatever,  as  Mr. 
Spencer  seems  never  to  have  considered  this  problem. 

361 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

But  clearly,  this  doctrine  of  modes  by  no  means 
implies  that  parallelism  between  the  modes  which 
the  validity  of  knowledge  presupposes.  Thus,  if  the 
fundamental  reality  produces  a  variety  of  physical 
effects  and  also  produces  a  variety  of  mental  concep- 
tions, there  seems  to  be  in  that  no  assurance  that 
the  mental  conceptions  shall  move  parallel  with  the 
physical  facts  and  rightly  reproduce  them.  Yet,  with- 
out this  assumption,  as  said,  knowledge  is  all  at  sea. 
But  supposing  that  there  is  a  mysterious  thought 
side  in  the  fundamental  reality,  many  points  still 
remain  for  explanation  before  the  view  is  clear.  First, 
what  would  such  a  doctrine  mean?  The  lowest  pos- 
sible meaning  we  could  give  to  it  would  be  some 
capacity  of  thought  and  feeling,  and,  indeed,  we 
could  not  make  much  out  of  that  without  affirm- 
ing some  actuality  of  thought  and  feeling.  An  inner 
face  or  subjective  aspect  which  did  not  mean  this 
would  be  simply  nothing  to  our  thought.  Further, 
what  is  the  relation  of  this  thought  side  in  the  fun- 
damental reality  to  the  relative  realities,  matter  and 
motion,  or  to  the  symbols,  matter  and  motion?  Do 
they  also  have  a  subjective  aspect,  and  is  that  aspect 
a  mode  of  the  subjective  aspect  of  the  fundamental 
reality  or  is  it  something  special  and  individual  in 
themselves,  and  do  they  think  and  feel?  If  not,  what 
does  the  subjective  aspect  mean?  And  finally,  what 
is  the  relation  of  these  subjective  aspects  to  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  individuals  of  experience? 
Does  the  fundamental  reality  or  the  relative  reality 
think  and  feel  in  our  personal  experience?  Or  how  shall 
we  conceive  it?  All  of  these  questions  are  untouched 

362 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

by  Mr.  Spencer.  Except  in  a  very  vague  way  and  now 
and  then,  when  the  odor  of  materialism  becomes  too 
strong.  He  makes  nothing  of  the  duality  in  the  Un- 
knowable itself.  The  duality  which  he  recognizes  lies 
rather  within  the  field  of  our  finite  experience,  and 
more  especially  within  the  field  of  the  organic  world 
and  the  thought  and  feeling  connected  therewith. 
Here  it  is  especially  that  his  notion  of  the  double 
aspect  appears.  It  is  really  not  the  double  aspect 
of  the  Unknowable  Reality  nor  yet  of  the  relative 
realities,  but  the  double  aspect  of  a  series  of  nerv- 
ous changes  in  living  things.  In  general,  his  doc- 
trine is  that  these  nervous  changes  have  what  he 
calls  sometimes  an  inside  and  sometimes  an  inner 
face  or  subjective  aspect.  This  is  the  conception 
which  runs  through  the  chief  part  of  his  psychological 
exposition.  In  the  passages  already  given,  feelings 
are  spoken  of  as  the  inside  of  nervous  phenomena. 
To  be  sure,  he  differentiates  at  times  between  the 
physical  life  and  the  mental  life;  and  yet  the  mental 
life  is  throughout  regarded  as  a  sort  of  attendant  of 
the  physical,  and  the  physical  is  treated  always  as 
being  relatively  independent.  The  mental  life  attends 
the  physical  life  and  is  not  there  without  it.  The 
physical  life,  on  the  other  hand,  is  something  rela- 
tively independent.  Least  of  all  is  it  dependent  on 
the  mental  life.  In  the  growth  of  intelligence  the 
deduction  of  the  mental  life  from  the  physical  is 
traced  through  reflex  action,  instinct,  memory,  rea- 
son, the  feelings  and  the  will,  and  these  are  all  shown 
to  be  but  the  internal  aspects  of  physical  changes  in 
the  nervous  system.  Thus,  with  respect  to  memory, 

363 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

"The  various  psychical  states  involved  in  each  set  of 
motions,  severally  become  nascent;  but  none  of  them 
reach  that  intensity  which  they  would  have  were  the 
motions  performed.  In  the  chief  nervous  centre  the 
different  impressions  serve  as  different  motor  im- 
pulses; and  these,  being  severally  supplanted  by  one 
another  before  they  pass  into  actual  motor  changes, 
will  each  of  them  consist  of  an  incipient  or  faint  form 
of  that  nervous  state  which  would  have  accompa- 
nied the  actual  motor  change  had  it  occurred.  But 
such  a  succession  of  states  constitutes  remembrance 
of  the  motor  changes  which  thus  become  incipient 
-  constitutes  a  memory.  To  remember  a  motion  just 
made  with  the  arm,  is  to  have  a  feeble  repetition  of 
those  internal  states  which  accompanied  the  motion 
—  is  to  have  an  incipient  excitement  of  those  nerves 
which  were  strongly  excited  during  the  motion.  Thus, 
then,  these  nascent  nervous  excitements  that  conflict 
with  one  another,  are  really  so  many  ideas  of  the 
motor  changes  which,  if  stronger,  they  would  cause; 
or  rather,  they  are  the  objective  sides  of  those  changes 
which  are  ideas  on  their  subjective  sides.  Conse- 
quently, Memory  necessarily  comes  into  existence 
whenever  automatic  action  is  imperfect."  (Volume  i, 
p.  448.) 

In  like  manner,  reason  is  explained.  "For  though 
when  the  confusion  of  a  complex  impression  with 
some  allied  one  causes  a  confusion  among  the  nascent 
motor  excitations,  there  is  entailed  a  certain  hesita- 
tion; and  though  this  hesitation  continues  as  long  as 
these  nascent  motor  excitations,  or  ideas  of  the  cor- 
relative actions,  go  on  superseding  one  another;  yet, 

364 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

ultimately,  some  one  set  of  motor  excitations  will 
prevail  over  the  rest.  As  the  groups  of  antagonistic 
tendencies  aroused  will  scarcely  ever  be  exactly  bal- 
anced, the  strongest  group  will  at  length  pass  into 
action;  and  as  this  sequence  will  usually  be  the  one 
that  has  recurred  oftenest  in  experience,  the  action 
will,  in  the  average  of  cases,  be  the  one  best  adapted 
to  the  circumstances.  But  an  action  thus  produced 
is  nothing  else  than  a  rational  action.  Each  of  the 
actions  which  we  call  rational,  presents  three  phases 
answering  to  those  here  described :  —  first,  a  certain 
combination  of  impressions  signifying  some  combina- 
tion of  phenomena  to  which  the  organism  is  to  be 
adjusted;  second,  an  idea  of  the  actions  before  per- 
formed under  like  conditions,  which  idea  is  a  nascent 
excitation  of  the  nervous  agents  before  concerned 
in  such  actions,  either  as  producers  of  them  or  as 
affected  by  the  production  of  them;  and,  third,  the 
actions  themselves,  which  are  simply  the  results  of  the 
nascent  excitation  rising  into  an  actual  excitation." 
(Volume  i,  p.  455.) 

Similar  reasoning  identifies  volition  with  the  pass- 
age of  the  nascent  motor  excitation  into  action,  and 
finally,  in  "Principles  of  Psychology,"  volume  n, 
page  484,  we  have  the  subject  and  object  defined  in 
such  a  way  as  to  bring  out  the  same  fact,  that  the 
mental  subject  is  simply  and  only  a  peculiar  nervous 
combination:  "For,  as  shown  in  earlier  parts  of  this 
work,  an  idea  is  the  psychical  side  of  what  on  its 
physical  side  is  an  involved  set  of  molecular  changes 
propagated  through  an  involved  set  of  nervous 
plexuses.  That  which  makes  possible  this  idea  is  the 

365 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

preexistence  of  these  plexuses,  so  organized  that  a 
wave  of  molecular  motion  diffused  through  them  will 
produce,  as  its  psychical  correlative,  the  components 
of  the  conception,  in  due  order  and  degree.  This  idea 
lasts  while  the  waves  of  molecular  motion  last,  ceas- 
ing when  they  cease;  but  that  which  remains  is  the 
set  of  plexuses.  These  constitute  the  potentiality  of 
the  idea,  and  make  possible  future  ideas  like  it.  Each 
such  set  of  plexuses,  perpetually  modified  in  detail 
by  perpetual  new  actions;  capable  of  entering  into 
countless  combinations  with  others,  just  as  the  objects 
thought  of  entered  into  countless  combinations;  and 
capable  of  having  its  several  parts  variously  excited 
just  as  the  external  object  presents  its  combined 
attributes  in  various  ways;  is  thus  the  permanent 
internal  nexus  for  ideas,  answering  to  the  permanent 
external  nexus  for  phenomena.  And  just  as  the  ex- 
ternal nexus  is  that  which  continues  to  exist  amid 
transitory  appearances,  so  the  internal  nexus  is  that 
which  continues  to  exist  amid  transitory  ideas." 

In  this  last  quotation  the  physical  side  is  made, 
so  far  as  our  thought  goes,  the  independent  and  abid- 
ing factor,  and  the  mental  side  is  simply  a  curious 
attendant  of  the  various  physical  changes,  which, 
however,  have  no  more  independence  of  their  physi- 
cal basis  than  the  tunes  and  melodies  of  an  instru- 
ment have  of  the  instrument  itself.  The  instrument 
makes  possible  the  melodies,  and  when  it  is  appropri- 
ately played  the  melodies  exist;  but  they  exist  only 
as  the  instrument  is  played.  And  as  it  would  be  quite 
absurd  to  think  of  them  as  having  a  separate  exist- 
ence apart  from  the  instrument,  so  likewise  it  is  ab- 

366 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

surd  to  think  of  our  thoughts  and  feelings  as  having 
any  existence  apart  from  the  instrument.  When  the 
instrument  is  played,  they  exist;  when  the  playing 
ceases,  they  cease;  when  the  instrument  is  destroyed, 
nothing  is  left  of  thought  or  melody  in  either  case. 

Here,  again,  we  see  the  essential  materialism  of 
Spencer's  view  cropping  out,  and  we  see  that  there 
is  no  relief  in  what  he  has  said  about  the  dual  aspect 
of  the  Unknowable.  What  we  have  here  on  his  own 
view  is  a  dual  aspect  of  organic  existence;  and  how- 
ever much  mystery  there  may  be  in  the  nature  of  the 
organism,  the  dependence  of  the  inner  aspect  upon 
the  outward  fact  is  made  very  manifest,  in  spite  of  all 
caveats  or  protests  to  the  contrary. 

The  problem  which  thus  emerges  is  not  peculiar 
to  Mr.  Spencer,  but  is  one  that  has  haunted  our 
materialistic  monism  for  some  time.  Speculators  of 
this  school  who  are  devoted  to  physical  science  have 
sought  to  maintain  the  continuity  of  the  physical 
series  so  that  each  physical  antecedent  should  be  fully 
accounted  for  in  the  physical  consequent,  and  each 
physical  consequent  should  find  its  adequate  explan- 
ation in  its  physical  antecedents.  Of  course,  on  this 
view  it  was  impossible  to  allow  that  thought  or  feeling 
should  account  for  anything  in  the  world  of  physical 
change.  And  hence  the  problem  is  presented,  how  to 
maintain  the  physical  continuity,  and  at  the  same 
time  recognize  the  mental  order.  The  theory  ad- 
vanced became  thus,  that  the  two  series  are  concomi- 
tant, but  that  each  goes  along  by  itself,  so  that  thought 
and  purpose  account  for  nothing  in  the  production 
of  physical  change;  while  the  physical  order,  on  the 

867 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

other  hand,  loses  nothing  for  the  production  of 
thought  and  gains  nothing  from  the  thought  side. 
But  this  view  in  this  form  was  subject  to  grave  diffi- 
culty. If  the  thought-series  were  really  independent, 
then,  as  above  pointed  out,  we  should  fall  into  a 
species  of  idealism,  because  there  would  be  nothing 
in  the  thought-world  that  demanded  the  physical 
world  for  its  explanation.  The  thought- world  would 
go  along  by  itself,  and  the  thing-world  would  be  only 
a  hypostasized  shadow  of  the  thought- world.  In  this 
strait  some  of  the  speculators  decided  to  say  that  the 
real  fact  was  the  physical  series,  while  the  mental 
series  attended  it  as  a  kind  of  concomitant  shadow 
which  costs  and  causes  nothing.  As  to  why  there 
should  be  any  such  duality  they  had  no  answer  to 
give,  but  their  view  was  that  the  physical  fact  was 
first  and  basal,  and  the  mental  fact  was  a  kind  of 
shadow,  which  seemed  to  be  there  for  no  reason  what- 
ever, but  which  was  so  implicated  with  its  physical 
ground  that  it  could  have  no  existence  apart  from  it. 
This  is  the  view  of  psycho-physical  parallelism. 
On  the  one  side,  we  have  a  series  of  subjective  shad- 
ows which  simply  attend  the  physical  changes,  and 
on  the  other  side,  we  have  a  series  of  physical  things 
and  movements,  and  the  latter  would  be  all  that  they 
are  if  the  mental  series  were  entirely  away.  Mr. 
Huxley  sets  forth  this  view  in  the  essay  before  re- 
ferred to,  "On  the  Hypothesis  that  Animals  are  Auto- 
mata." In  the  original  view  he  maintained,  however, 
that  our  volition  counts  for  something  in  the  course  of 
events,  but  he  was  not  fully  grounded  in  the  doctrine 
himself.  He  was  simply  expounding  it.  Later  on, 

368 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

when  the  essay  was  published  in  his  "Collected  Es- 
says," he  added  a  footnote,  as  already  mentioned, 
to  the  effect  that  the  volition  was  simply  a  symbol 
of  the  nervous  conditions  which  really  produce  events. 
Many  others  have  set  forth  the  same  doctrine,  but 
this  view  shuts  us  up  to  the  most  grotesque  and  im- 
possible notions.  It  implies,  for  instance,  that  all  of 
human  history  has  gone  on  without  any  intervention 
or  guidance  of  thought  and  purpose.  The  multitudi- 
nous activities  of  men  in  the  establishment  of  homes, 
the  building  of  cities,  the  making  of  inventions,  the 
founding  of  governments,  and  all  the  complex  activ- 
ities that  underlie  civilization  in  general  have  taken 
place  without  any  control  of  thought,  and,  so  far  as 
we  know,  without  its  presence.  There  is  really  no 
more  extraordinary  inversion  of  good  sense  to  be 
found  in  the  whole  history  of  speculation.  The  func- 
tion of  all  theorizing  is  to  explain  experience,  not  to 
explain  it  away.  From  experience  all  our  thinking 
must  start  as  its  foundation  and  to  experience  it  must 
return  for  its  verification;  but,  instead  of  regarding 
this  obvious  fact,  the  theorists  proceed  to  build  ab- 
stractions without  regard  to  experience,  and  then  in 
the  name  of  the  abstractions  to  invert  experience 
altogether.  As  soon,  however,  as  we  recall  the  true 
relation  of  theory  to  experience,  we  see  the  inverted 
character  of  this  view. 

On  this  matter,  as  on  so  many  others,  Mr.  Spencer 
is  uncertain.  He  is  not  willing,  as  we  have  seen,  to 
allow  that  feeling  counts  for  nothing.  In  a  quotation 
before  given  he  points  out  that  in  that  case  feel- 
ings have  arisen  to  do  nothing,  and  he  rightly  urges 

369 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

this  objection  against  Professor  Huxley's  view  which 
would  make  consciousness  a  mere  collateral  attend- 
ant of  the  nervous  changes  without  in  any  way  affect- 
ing them.  Thus,  it  would  seem  that  Mr.  Spencer  does 
not  accept  the  doctrine  in  its  completeness;  but  on  the 
other  hand,  it  seems  impossible  to  say  that  he  does 
not  accept  it,  for  when  mental  states,  volitions  among 
the  rest,  are  declared  to  be  only  an  inner  aspect  or 
face  of  changes  among  nervous  vesicles,  either  we 
have  the  view  in  question,  according  to  which  feeling 
simply  goes  along  with  the  physical  series,  or  else 
we  have  feelings  introduced  as  dynamic  factors,  and 
then  the  evolution  formula,  which  recognizes  only 
matter  and  motion,  is  definitely  set  aside.  There 
seems  to  be  no  way  out  of  this  except  to  appeal  with 
all  proper  gravity  to  the  Unknowable  and  to  the  sym- 
bolic character  of  our  knowledge;  and  that  introduces 
a  factor  of  ignorance  which  displaces  the  formula, 
though  in  another  way. 

Another  curious  thing  deserves  to  be  mentioned  in 
connection  with  this  double-faced  character  of  nerv- 
ous action.  It  is  surprising  that  there  should  be  a 
double  face  and  still  more  surprising  that  we  should 
know  anything  about  it,  for  there  is  really  an  impas- 
sable gulf  between  the  two  faces.  It  is  still  more  sur- 
prising, if  possible,  that,  in  case  there  should  be  such 
inner  face,  the  inner  face  should  rightly  reproduce  the 
outer  face.  If  nerves  be  able  to  generate  thoughts,  it 
by  no  means  follows  that  the  thoughts  must  repre- 
sent external  reality.  The  thoughts  might  be  as  sub- 
jective as  the  fancies  produced  in  dreams.  And  one 
would  expect  that  the  thoughts  would  represent,  if 

370 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

anything,  the  organic  processes  of  which  they  are 
said  to  be  the  inner  face,  whereas  they  never  refer 
to  these  and  commonly  refer  to  things  entirely  apart 
from  the  organism  itself.  This  complete  silence  of 
the  nerves  as  to  their  own  existence,  and  the  report, 
instead,  of  what  is  taking  place  in  the  extra-organic 
world,  are  very  remarkable  facts.  Certainly,  when 
matter  is  declared  to  be  a  double-faced  entity,  we 
should  expect  to  find  the  mental  face  reflecting  that 
part  of  the  physical  face  which  attends  it,  or  which 
is  next  to  it.  But  this  it  never  does.  The  inner  face 
does  not  reproduce,  except  very  remotely,  the  ner- 
vous fact  of  which  it  is  said  to  be  the  inner  face.  The 
nervous  fact  is  a  series  of  changes  in  the  nervous 
system,  and  more  specifically  in  the  gray  matter  of 
the  brain.  But  this  is  not  reproduced  by  thoughts, 
but  commonly  some  facts  external  to  the  organism, 
things  and  changes  in  the  outer  world.  Here  we  have 
a  remarkably  opaque  fact.  If  we  should  suppose  the 
inner  and  the  outer  face  to  correspond,  something 
like  the  opposite  sides  of  a  relief,  the  imagination 
would  seem  to  have  some  insight  into  the  parallelism 
and  its  reason;  but  when  the  two  faces  are  such  that 
the  inner  face  ignores  the  outer  face  entirely,  and 
reports,  instead,  something  else,  the  house  yonder, 
or  the  man  and  the  landscape,  and  all  manner  of 
inorganic  facts,  quite  apart  from  both  our  mind  and 
our  nerves,  we  become  impressed  with  the  extraor- 
dinary opacity  of  this  doctrine  of  double-facedness. 
But  this  problem  also  never  occurred  to  Mr.  Spencer. 
It  sufficed  for  him  to  speak  of  the  two  aspects  of 
matter,  and  later  on  to  speak  of  thoughts  and  feelings 

371 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

as  the  inner  aspect  of  nervous  change;  and  he  never 
suspected  the  implications  of  the  view.  Indeed,  he 
never  had  any  clear  idea  of  the  view  itself,  but  con- 
tented himself  with  vague  pictures  and  such  phrases 
as  symbols,  etc.,  and  these  served  to  carry  his  thought 
lightly  over  the  depths. 

The  associational  psychology  has  always  sought 
to  exhibit  mind  as  a  product,  and  especially  as  com- 
pounded of  simpler  states  and  ultimately  of  sensa- 
tions. The  latter  are  the  original  units  out  of  which 
all  mental  forms  and  higher  combinations  are  pro- 
duced. Mr.  Spencer  adopts  this  general  view,  and 
gives  a  chapter  on  the  "Composition  of  Mind,"  in 
which  mind  is  exhibited  as  compounded  of  simple 
sensations  and  simple  feelings  which  are  united  in 
such  a  way  as  to  produce  our  actual  mental  structure. 
In  the  chapter  on  the  "Substance  of  Mind"  Mr. 
Spencer  suggests  that  there  may  well  be  some  ultimate 
mental  unit,  which  is  the  original  thing  in  mental 
combination.  He  points  out  that  individual  sensa- 
tions and  emotions,  real  or  ideal,  of  which  conscious- 
ness is  built  up,  though  they  appear  to  be  simple  and 
unanalyzable,  are  not  really  so.  He  says:  "There  is  at 
least  one  kind  of  feeling  which,  as  ordinarily  experi- 
enced, seems  elementary,  that  is  demonstrably  not 
elementary.  And  after  resolving  it  into  its  proximate 
components,  we  can  scarcely  help  suspecting  that 
other  apparently  elementary  feelings  are  also  com- 
pound, and  may  have  proximate  components  like 
those  which  we  can  in  this  one  instance  identify." 
("Principles  of  Psychology,"  vol.  I,  p.  148.) 

Musical  sound  is  the  case  to  which  Mr.  Spencer 

372 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

refers.  This,  he  says,  is  clearly  resolvable  into  simple 
feelings,  a  conclusion  which  he  draws  from  the  fact 
that  when  equal  blows  or  taps  are  made,  one  after 
another,  at  a  rate  not  exceeding  some  sixteen  per 
second,  the  effect  of  each  is  perceived  as  a  separate 
noise;  but  when  the  rapidity  with  which  the  blows 
follow  one  another  exceeds  this,  the  noises  are  no 
longer  identified  in  separate  states  of  consciousness, 
and  there  arises  in  place  of  them  a  continuous  state 
of  consciousness  called  a  tone.  Considerations  of  this 
kind  lead  Mr.  Spencer  to  ask:  "Can  we  stop  short 
here?  If  the  different  sensations  known  as  sounds  are 
built  out  of  a  common  unit,  is  it  not  to  be  rationally 
inferred  that  so  likewise  are  the  different  sensations 
known  as  tastes,  and  the  different  sensations  known  as 
odors,  and  the  different  sensations  known  as  colors? 
Nay,  shall  we  not  regard  it  as  probable  that  there  is  a 
unit  common  to  all  these  strongly  contrasted  classes 
of  sensations?  If  the  unlikenesses  among  the  sensa- 
tions of  each  class  may  be  due  to  unlikenesses  among 
the  modes  of  aggregation  of  a  unit  of  consciousness 
common  to  them  all;  so,  too,  may  the  much  greater 
unlikenesses  between  the  sensations  of  each  class  and 
those  of  other  classes.  There  may  be  a  single  primor- 
dial element  of  consciousness,  and  the  countless  kinds 
of  consciousness  may  be  produced  by  the  compounding 
of  this  element  with  itself  and  the  re-compounding 
of  its  compounds  with  one  another  in  higher  and  higher 
degrees;  so  producing  increased  multiplicity,  variety, 
and  complexity."  (Volume  i,  p.  150.)  Mr.  Spencer 
thinks  that  this  primordial  element  may  be  identified 
as  a  nervous  shock.  He  says,  "The  subjective  effect 

373 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

produced  by  a  crack  or  noise  that  has  no  appreciable 
duration,  is  little  else  than  a  nervous  shock";  and 
concludes,  "It  is  possible,  then  —  may  we  not  even 
say  probable  —  that  something  of  the  same  order  as 
that  which  we  call  a  nervous  shock  is  the  ultimate 
unit  of  consciousness;  and  that  all  the  unlikenesses 
among  our  feelings  result  from  unlike  modes  of  inte- 
gration of  this  ultimate  unit."  (Page  151.) 

This  is  quite  in  line  with  traditional  associational- 
ism.  Mind  as  it  exists  is  looked  upon  as  a  compound, 
and  attention  is  directed  to  finding  the  units  out  of 
which  it  is  compounded;  and  those  units  which  seem 
to  be  given  as  such  in  consciousness  are  subjected  to 
further  scrutiny,  with  the  aim  of  inquiring  whether 
they  are  themselves  not  compounds  of  something 
still  more  ultimate;  and  thus,  finally,  there  emerges 
the  conception  of  some  primordial  unit  from  which  by 
various  compositions  we  may  succeed  in  exhibiting 
the  entire  mind  as  its  outcome.  Mr.  Spencer  goes  be- 
yond the  traditional  doctrine  in  finding  this  unit  out- 
side of  the  mind  in  some  form  of  nervous  action,  and 
inasmuch  as  there  seems  to  be  combination  among 
nervous  changes  he  concludes  that  there  is  parallel 
combination  among  mental  changes,  so  that  the  in- 
ternal change  is  but  the  inside  of  an  external  change 
among  the  nerves. 

So  far  as  his  argument  goes,  however,  there  is  much 
reason  for  doubting  this.  The  illustration  that  is 
given  of  musical  sound  is  very  far  from  proving  the 
case.  There  are  a  good  many  nervous  changes  that 
have  no  mental  parallel,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  and  we 
are  quite  unable  to  tell  when  the  nervous  changes 

374 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

shall  begin  to  have  an  inner  face  or  what  form  the  face 
shall  have  when  it  comes.  The  argument  rests  on  the 
assumption  that  the  peculiarities  of  the  physical  face 
must  reappear  on  the  mental  side.  If  the  physical 
antecedent  is  a  series  of  waves,  the  mental  consequent 
must  also  be  a  series  of  corresponding  shocks,  and  the 
conscious  effect  can  only  be  the  integral  of  these 
shocks.  This  is  an  extremely  doubtful  physical  ana- 
logy. Considering  the  unlikeness  of  the  physical  and 
mental  series,  and  the  arbitrary  nature  of  their  con- 
nection in  general,  we  cannot  form  any  rational  expect- 
ation as  to  what  mental  consequent  shall  attend  a 
given  physical  antecedent ;  whether  it  shall  be  as  coarse- 
grained as  the  antecedent  or  strictly  continuous  must 
be  decided  by  experience.  The  composition,  too,  may 
take  place  entirely  in  the  nervous  system  and  not  in 
the  mind.  The  sounds  produced  at  a  lower  rate  than 
sixteen  per  second  affect  the  nerves  in  a  certain  way. 
When  they  are  more  rapidly  produced,  they  affect  the 
nerves  in  a  certain  other  way.  Corresponding  to  the 
lower  rate,  we  have  on  the  mental  side  a  series  of  dis- 
tinct sounds.  Corresponding  to  the  higher  rate,  we 
have  on  the  mental  side  a  perception  of  tone,  but  we 
have  no  reason  for  saying  that  the  tone-sensation  is 
made  up  of  the  simpler  sensations.  We  simply  have  one 
set  of  sensations  corresponding  to  one  form  of  nerv- 
ous action,  and  another  kind  of  sensation  correspond- 
ing to  another  form.  And  that  this  is  really  the  view 
to  be  taken  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  when  sounds 
finally  emerge  in  consciousness  they  show  no  tendency 
whatever  to  fuse  into  a  common  resultant.  When  the 
many  notes  of  a  piece  of  music  are  played,  the  notes  do 

375 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

not  run  together,  otherwise  there  would  be  no  music; 
but  they  remain  separate  and  are  discriminated  in 
their  varying  quality  and  harmonized  relations;  with- 
out this,  music  could  not  exist.  Similarly  with  colors. 
When  the  colors  of  the  spectrum  are  printed  on  a  disc 
in  proper  order  and  the  disc  is  made  to  revolve  rapidly, 
we  have  a  sensation  of  a  sort  of  white  light;  but  this 
does  not  mean  that  the  sensations  of  the  spectrum 
have  fused,  because,  when  those  sensations  are  dis- 
tinctly given,  they  do  not  fuse,  but  remain  distinct. 
We  have  really  only  a  sensation  resulting  from  one 
nervous  condition,  just  as  under  other  circumstances 
we  have  other  sensations  resulting  from  other  nervous 
conditions. 

Mr.  Spencer's  argument,  then,  for  the  primordial 
unit  is  unsuccessful.  The  real  reason  for  it  is  found 
in  a  desire  to  analyze  difference  into  identity,  and  to 
explain  compounds  by  some  unity  of  composition. 
This  is  the  doctrine  generally  held  by  the  associa- 
tional  school. 

After  these  considerations  Mr.  Spencer  next  pro- 
ceeds to  discuss  the  composition  of  mind  as  we  can 
detect  it  within  experience  itself.  He  says:  "Accept- 
ing as  really  simple  those  constituents  of  Mind  which 
are  not  decomposable  by  introspection,  we  have  to 
consider  what  are  their  fundamental  distinctive  char- 
acters, and  what  are  the  essential  principles  of  arrange- 
ment among  them."  (Volume  i,  p.  163.)  He  finds  that 
"the  proximate  components  of  Mind  are  of  two  broadly 
contrasted  kinds  —  Feelings  and  the  Relations  be- 
tween feelings."  Feelings,  again,  are  distinguished 
into  vivid  and  faint  feelings,  after  the  fashion  of  Hume. 

376 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

According  to  Hume,  there  are  some  feelings  which  are 
relatively  original.  The  chief  mark  of  these  is  their 
vividness.  Then  there  are  other  feelings  which  are 
not  original,  but  which  seem  to  be  copies  of  vivid 
feelings.  These  as  copies  are  relatively  faint,  and  the 
whole  of  mind  is  made  up  of  these  vivid  feelings  and 
faint  feelings  and  relations  that  arise  among  them. 
In  this  general  view  Mr.  Spencer  agrees  with  Hume, 
and  follows  in  the  line  of  the  associational  tradition. 
He  gives  the  following  account  of  the  process:  — 

"The  cardinal  fact  to  be  noted  as  of  coordinate 
importance  with  the  facts  above  noted,  is  that  while 
each  vivid  feeling  is  joined  to,  but  distinguished  from, 
other  vivid  feelings,  simultaneous  or  successive,  it  is 
joined  to,  and  identified  with,  faint  feelings  that  have 
resulted  from  foregoing  similar  vivid  feelings.  Each 
particular  color,  each  special  sound,  each  sensation 
of  touch,  taste,  or  smell,  is  at  once  known  as  unlike 
other  sensations  that  limit  it  in  space  or  time,  and 
known  as  like  the  faint  forms  of  certain  sensations 
that  have  preceded  it  in  time  —  unites  itself  with  fore- 
going sensations  from  which  it  does  not  differ  in 
quality  but  only  in  intensity. 

"On  this  law  of  composition  depends  the  orderly 
structure  of  Mind.  In  its  absence  there  could  be 
nothing  but  a  perpetual  kaleidoscopic  change  of  feel- 
ings —  an  ever-transforming  present  without  past  or 
future.  It  is  because  of  this  tendency  which  vivid 
feelings  have  severally  to  cohere  with  the  faint  forms 
of  all  preceding  feelings  like  themselves,  that  there 
arise  what  we  call  ideas.  A  vivid  feeling  does  not 
by  itself  constitute  a  unit  of  that  aggregate  of  ideas 

377 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

entitled  knowledge.  Nor  does  a  single  faint  feeling 
constitute  such  a  unit.  But  an  idea,  or  unit  of  know- 
ledge, results  when  a  vivid  feeling  is  assimilated  to, 
or  coheres  with,  one  or  more  of  the  faint  feelings  left 
by  such  vivid  feelings  previously  experienced.  From 
moment  to  moment  the  feelings  that  constitute  con- 
sciousness segregate  —  each  becoming  fused  with  the 
whole  series  of  others  like  itself  that  have  gone  before 
it;  and  what  we  call  knowing  each  feeling  as  such  or 
such,  is  our  name  for  this  act  of  segregation. 

"The  process  so  carried  on  does  not  stop  with  the 
union  of  each  feeling,  as  it  occurs,  with  the  faint  forms 
of  all  preceding  like  feelings.  Clusters  of  feelings  are 
simultaneously  joined  with  the  faint  forms  of  preced- 
ing like  clusters.  An  idea  of  an  object  or  act  is  com- 
posed of  groups  of  similar  and  similarly  related  feel- 
ings that  have  arisen  in  consciousness  from  time  to 
time,  and  have  formed  a  consolidated  series  of  which 
the  members  have  partially  or  completely  lost  their 
individualities."  (Volume  i,  pp.  181-83.)  "Consider 
now,  under  its  most  general  form,  the  process  of  com- 
position of  mind  described  in  foregoing  sections.  It  is 
no  other  than  this  same  process  carried  out  on  higher 
and  higher  platforms,  with  increasing  extent  and  com- 
plication. As  we  have  lately  seen,  the  feelings  called 
sensations  cannot  of  themselves  constitute  Mind, 
even  when  great  numbers  of  various  kinds  are  present 
together.  Mind  is  constituted  only  when  each  sensa- 
tion is  assimilated  to  the  faint  forms  of  antecedent 
like  sensations.  The  consolidation  of  successive  units 
of  feeling  to  form  a  sensation,  is  paralleled  in  a  larger 
way  by  the  consolidation  of  successive  sensations  to 

378 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

form  what  we  call  a  knowledge  of  the  sensation  as 
such  or  such  —  to  form  the  smallest  separable  portion 
of  what  we  call  thought,  as  distinguished  from  mere 
confused  sentiency."  (Volume  i,  p.  185.) 

In  all  this,  sensations  appear  as  units  of  structure, 
or  as  the  material  out  of  which  the  developed  mind  is 
built.  All  mental  forms  and  beliefs  arise  in  this  way. 
The  ideas  of  space  and  time  are  traced  in  their  gen- 
esis, and  finally  the  self  also  is  declared  to  be  simply  a 
collective  term  for  these  component  states.  In  some 
of  the  language  used,  the  knowing  self  would  seem  to 
be  almost  implied  as  something  operating  upon  the 
sensations,  of  recognizing  them  in  their  likenesses  and 
discriminating  them  in  their  unlikenesses  and  relating 
them  to  their  several  classes;  but  in  general,  this  is 
not  Mr.  Spencer's  view.  In  discussing  the  question  of 
freedom,  he  points  out  that  the  notion  of  the  self  is 
really  a  collective  term,  and  the  fancy  that  it  is  any- 
thing more  is  an  illusion.  He  says:  "Considered  as  an 
internal  perception,  the  illusion  consists  in  supposing 
that  at  each  moment  the  ego  is  something  more  than 
the  aggregate  of  feelings  and  ideas,  actual  or  nascent, 
which  then  exists.  A  man  who,  after  being  subject 
to  an  impulse  consisting  of  a  group  of  psychical  states, 
real  and  ideal,  performs  a  certain  action,  usually  as- 
serts that  he  determined  to  perform  the  action;  and 
by  speaking  of  his  conscious  self  as  having  been  some- 
thing separate  from  the  group  of  psychical  states  con- 
stituting the  impulse,  is  led  into  the  error  of  supposing 
that  it  was  not  the  impulse  which  alone  determined 
the  action.  But  the  entire  group  of  psychical  states 
which  constituted  the  antecedent  of  the  action,  also 

379 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

constituted  himself  at  that  moment  —  constituted 
his  psychical  self,  that  is,  as  distinguished  from  his 
physical  self.  It  is  alike  true  that  he  determined  the 
action  and  that  the  aggregate  of  his  feelings  and  ideas 
determined  it;  since,  during  its  existence,  this  aggre- 
gate constituted  his  then  state  of  consciousness,  that 
is,  himself.  Either  the  ego  which  is  supposed  to  de- 
termine or  will  the  action,  is  present  in  conscious- 
ness or  it  is  not.  If  it  is  not  present  in  consciousness, 
it  is  something  of  which  we  are  unconscious  —  some- 
thing, therefore,  of  whose  existence  we  neither  have 
nor  can  have  any  evidence.  If  it  is  present  in  con- 
sciousness, then,  as  it  is  ever  present,  it  can  be  at  each 
moment  nothing  else  than  the  state  of  consciousness, 
simple  or  compound,  passing  at  that  moment."  (Vol- 
ume i,  p.  500.)  Thus,  we  see  that  sensations  and  feel- 
ings are  all,  and  that  all  else  in  mind  is  simply  the 
result  of  their  combination.  This  is  good  orthodox 
associationalism,  and  this  we  now  have  to  examine. 

But  before  passing  to  this  discussion,  it  may  be  well 
to  notice  a  further  extension  of  Mr.  Spencer's  doc- 
trine that  physical  states  and  mental  states  are  paral- 
lel, or  that  mental  changes  are  simply  the  inner  side 
of  nervous  changes.  It  has  long  been  a  question  with 
the  associationalists  of  the  old  school  how  to  explain 
association.  The  process  itself  seems  to  be  exceed- 
ingly obscure,  and  nothing  remains  apparently  but  to 
look  upon  the  forms  of  association  as  ultimate  facts 
of  which  no  further  account  is  to  be  given.  But  Mr. 
Spencer,  with  his  notion  of  psycho-physical  parallel- 
ism, gives  us  another  account,  in  which  the  associa- 
tion takes  place  primarily,  not  in  the  mind,  but  in  the 

380 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

nervous  system.  The  relatively  independent  fact  is  the 
nerves  and  their  changes,  and  here  it  is  that  we  find 
the  key  to  the  associations  on  the  mental  side.  He 
expounds  the  doctrine  thus:  "Changes  in  nerve- vesi- 
cles are  the  objective  correlatives  of  what  we  know 
subjectively  as  feelings;  and  the  discharges  through 
fibres  that  connect  nerve-vesicles  are  the  objective 
correlatives  of  what  we  know  subjectively  as  relations 
between  feelings.  It  follows  that  just  as  the  associa- 
tion of  a  feeling  with  its  class,  order,  genus,  and  spe- 
cies, group  within  group,  answers  to  the  localization 
of  the  nervous  change  within  some  great  mass  of 
nerve-vesicles,  within  some  part  of  that  mass,  within 
some  part  of  that  part,  etc. ;  so  the  association  of  a  re- 
lation with  its  class,  order,  genus  and  species,  answers 
to  the  localization  of  the  nervous  discharge  within 
some  great  aggregate  of  nerve-fibres,  within  some 
division  of  that  aggregate,  within  some  bundle  of  that 
division.  Moreover,  as  we  before  concluded  that  the 
association  of  each  feeling  with  its  exact  counterparts 
in  past  experience,  answers  to  the  reexcitation  of  the 
same  vesicle  or  vesicles;  so  here  we  conclude  that  the 
association  of  each  relation  with  its  exact  counter- 
parts in  past  experience,  answers  to  the  reexcitation 
of  the  same  connecting  fibre  or  fibres.  And  since, 
on  the  recognition  of  any  object,  this  reexcitation  of 
the  plexus  of  fibres  and  vesicles  before  jointly  excited 
by  it,  answers  to  the  association  of  each  constituent 
relation  and  each  constituent  feeling  with  the  like  re- 
lation and  the  like  feeling  contained  in  the  previous 
consciousness  of  the  object;  it  is  clear  that  the  whole 
process  is  comprehended  under  the  principle  alleged. 

381 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

If  the  recognized  object,  now  lacking  one  of  its  traits, 
arouses  in  consciousness  an  ideal  feeling  answering 
to  some  real  feeling  which  this  trait  once  aroused;  the 
cause  is  that  along  with  the  strong  discharge  through 
the  whole  plexus  of  fibres  and  vesicles  directly  excited, 
there  is  apt  to  go  a  feeble  discharge  to  those  vesicles 
which  answer  to  the  missing  feeling,  through  those 
fibres  which  answer  to  its  missing  relations,  involving  a 
representation  of  the  feeling  and  its  relations."  ("  Prin- 
ciples of  Psychology,"  vol.  i,  p.  270.)  Mr.  Spencer  else- 
where further  extends  this  explanation  as  follows :  "  As 
the  plexuses  in  these  highest  nervous  centres,  by  excit- 
ing in  distinct  ways  special  sets  of  plexuses  in  the  in- 
ferior centres,  call  up  special  sets  of  ideal  feelings  and 
relations;  so,  by  simultaneously  exciting  in  diffused 
ways  the  general  sets  of  plexuses  to  which  these  special 
sets  belong,  they  call  up  in  vague  forms  the  accom- 
panying general  sets  of  ideal  feelings  and  relations  - 
the  emotional  background  appropriate  to  the  definite 
conception.  In  the  language  of  our  illustration,  we  may 
say  that  the  superior  nervous  centres  in  playing  upon 
the  inferior  ones,  bring  out  not  only  specific  chords  and 
cadences  of  feelings,  but,  in  so  doing,  arouse  reverber- 
ating echoes  of  all  kindred  chords  and  cadences  that 
have  been  struck  during  an  immeasurable  past  —  pro- 
ducing a  great  volume  of  indefinite  tones  harmonizing 
with  the  definite  tones."  (Volume  i,  p.  571.) 

One  great  difficulty  with  the  associational  doctrine 
has  always  been  that  it  does  not  provide  for  the  es- 
sential thing  in  memory,  namely,  recognition.  At  best, 
it  could  only  lead  to  the  successive  production  of  sim- 
ilar mental  states  without  providing  for  any  recog- 

382 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

nition  of  the  similarity.  Particular  mental  states,  of 
course,  can  never  recur.  The  feeling  that  we  had  yes- 
terday in  its  own  particularity  went  away  with  its  date 
and  can  no  more  recur  or  return  than  its  date  could. 
Hence  we  have,  in  this  view,  no  recurrence  of  any- 
thing psychological,  but  rather  an  occurrence  of  cer- 
tain similar  mental  states,  with  nothing,  however,  for 
their  recognition  as  similar.  To  this  objection  there  is 
no  reply,  and  Mr.  Spencer's  physiological  account  of 
the  matter  in  no  way  removes  it.  Supposing  all  these 
extraordinary  things  that  are  told  us  about  the  nerve 
vesicles  and  nerve  fibres  and  nerve  currents  were  true, 
we  should  be  no  nearer  to  the  solution  of  the  problem 
of  memory  than  before,  and  no  amount  of  such  repro- 
duction would  ever  bring  us  to  recognition;  for  recog- 
nition is  possible  only  as  the  mental  subject  relates 
its  present  experience  to  itself  and  the  members  of 
that  experience  to  one  another  under  the  temporal 
form  and  then  identifies  some  element  of  the  present 
experience  as  similar  to  one  in  the  past.  Without 
this  activity,  memory  is  demonstrably  impossible.  We 
should  have  the  occurrence  of  similar  experiences,  but 
this  would  not  be  for  the  experiences  themselves,  but 
for  the  observer  from  without,  that  is,  it  would  not 
be  memory  at  all.  No  succession  of  mental  states  can 
ever  be  identified  with  a  consciousness  of  succession. 
The  successions  of  consciousness  are  incommensur- 
able with  the  consciousness  of  succession. 

We  might,  then,  avail  ourselves  of  this  fact  to  set 
aside  Mr.  Spencer's  elaborate  physiological  explana- 
tion, but  it  may  be  well  to  look  at  it  in  a  little  more 
detail,  in  order  to  show  how  fantastic  it  is  even  on  its 

383 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

own  ground.  Some  philosophers,  who  have  resorted 
to  physiology  to  explain  psychological  problems,  have 
been  pleased  to  speak  of  nerve  cells  as  the  elements 
containing  experience.  This  is  the  case  with  Professor 
Bain  in  his  little  work,  "Mind  and  Body."  Mr.  Spen- 
cer, however,  speaks  of  nerve  vesicles  which  do  not 
exactly  seem  to  contain  the  elements  of  experience, 
but  rather  to  be  the  physical  facts  involved  in  the 
production  of  our  experience.  If  we  should  speak  of 
an  idea  as  stored  in  a  nerve  vesicle,  it  might  be  diffi- 
cult to  tell  what  we  mean;  but  if  we  say  that  changes 
in  a  certain  nerve  vesicle  are  the  objective  basis  of  a 
given  idea,  we  seem  to  escape  the  grotesque  difficulty 
of  supposing  ideas  really  stored  in  brain  cells.  But 
we  are  really  not  very  much  better  off,  for  now  the 
idea  is  only  the  subjective  side  of  changes  in  a  special 
vesicle.  It  is  not  something  produced  apart  from  the 
vesicle  or  contained  in  the  vesicle.  It  is  simply  the 
changes  in  that  vesicle  subjectively  viewed.  This, 
too,  is  very  obscure;  for  where  the  subjective  viewer 
comes  from  who  can  look  at  the  nervous  change  in 
such  a  way  as  to  see  an  inside  to  it,  is  a  problem  of 
great  delicacy  and  difficulty.  But  omitting  to  press 
this,  we  need  to  know  more  of  the  relation  of  these 
vesicles  to  these  ideas.  Apparently  the  simple  nerv- 
ous changes  are  confined  to  simple  vesicles,  and  these 
vesicles,  by  being  variously  grouped,  produce  the 
more  complex  changes  which  result  in  a  more  com- 
plex idea.  It  would  seem  from  this  as  if  there  might 
be  a  kind  of  physiological  preestablished  harmony 
between  the  simple  vesicle  and  its  idea.  Suppose  an 
ingoing  nerve  current,  say  from  the  eye,  to  reach  the 

384 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

brain.  Is  there  only  one  vesicle  or  group  of  vesicles 
for  a  common  idea,  or  might  other  vesicles  also  pro- 
duce the  idea?  We  are  not  told;  but  one  or  the  other 
must  be  true,  and  in  either  case  we  have  exceeding 
difficulty.  If  we  suppose  that  only  one  vesicle  can 
produce  the  idea,  then  we  have  a  most  remarkable 
preestablished  harmony  between  the  vesicles  and  the 
ideas.  And  this  seems  to  be  implied  in  Mr.  Spencer's 
doctrine  of  the  complex  ideas.  His  notion  of  the  ori- 
gin of  complex  ideas  is  that  the  several  vesicles  which 
represent  the  combination  are  united  by  nervous 
fibres,  along  which  nervous  currents  flow,  with  the 
result  of  producing  the  various  combinations  to- 
gether in  consciousness.  In  that  case,  it  would  seem 
that  the  simple  ideas  are  confined  to  their  own  proper 
vesicle.  Otherwise  the  lines  of  communication  would 
be  all  astray,  and  only  mental  confusion  would  result. 
If  we  suppose  that  a  great  variety  of  vesicles  could 
all  produce  the  same  idea,  we  should  have  to  have 
the  nerve  fibres  equally  produced,  and  in  that  case, 
a  single  idea,  with  its  possible  ramifications,  might 
almost  take  possession  of  the  brain.  But  if,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  should  say  that  it  is  not  merely  a  nerve 
vesicle,  but  a  special  form  of  change  in  the  vesicle 
which  is  the  real  basis  of  the  ideas,  we  should  be  at 
a  loss  to  know  what  prevents  these  several  forms  of 
change  from  modifying  one  another  and  coalescing 
into  a  kind  of  resultant  in  which  the  different  ideas 
would  disappear  entirely.  Considerations  of  this  kind 
led  Professor  Bain  to  suppose  that  in  some  way  or 
other,  when  knowledge  had  been  stored  in  appropri- 
ate cells,  those  cells  were  no  longer  open  to  new  know- 

385 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

ledge.  When,  then,  a  given  idea  had  entered  into  cell 
A  that  cell  was  thereafter  closed  against  new  ideas, 
which  must  look  elsewhere  for  a  harbor.  They  must 
go  to  B  or  C  or  D,  etc.  This  view  further  implied 
that  the  knowledge  and  storage  tract  was  being  grad- 
ually preempted  so  as  to  set  a  limit  to  further  acqui- 
sition —  an  implication  which  Professor  Bain  recog- 
nized and  sought  to  escape  by  showing  that  the 
number  of  nerve  cells  is  so  great  that  an  ordinary 
life  would  not  exhaust  them. 

This  whole  view  is  the  outcome  of  picture-thinking. 
If  we  suppose  that  ideas  are  in  some  way  represented 
in  the  brain,  and  if  we  next  connect  these  nervous 
representatives  by  some  kind  of  nervous  connection, 
and  further  suppose  that  nervous  currents  play  along 
these  lines,  we  seem  to  have  a  kind  of  picturable 
explanation  of  the  subject  that  is  quite  satisfactory 
until  we  examine  it  closely,  and  then  it  turns  out,  as 
we  have  already  indicated,  that  the  essential  nature 
of  the  psychological  facts  is  entirely  overlooked  and 
that  anatomy  knows  nothing  of  the  operations  here 
suggested.  There  are,  indeed,  nerve  cells  and  nerv- 
ous fibres  and  nervous  currents  in  the  brain,  but 
that  they  have  any  such  psychological  function  as  is 
here  suggested  is  a  mere  assumption,  which,  from 
the  nature  of  the  case,  admits  of  no  demonstration. 
We  have  simply  an  appeal  to  the  superficial  imagin- 
ation, with  illustrations  of  chords  and  cadences  struck 
during  an  indefinite  past,  and  the  imagination  is 
satisfied  with  the  picture.  Apart  from  its  psycho- 
logical fatuity,  it  is  doubtful  if  this  view  would  have 
ever  been  held  if  its  physiological  and  anatomical 

386 


PSYCHO-PHYSICAL  PARALLELISM 

complexity  had  been  duly  regarded.  If  we  suppose  a 
single  cell  to  register  an  object,  it  would  seem  that 
one  cell  might  suffice  for  that  object;  but  since  objects 
are  given,  not  as  logical  universals,  but  as  particular 
cases  in  a  great  variety  of  contexts  and  complex  rela- 
tions, and  each  of  these  particular  experiences  has  its 
own  particular  vesicle  or  physical  function,  the  result 
is  that  a  brief  experience  with  the  single  thing  might 
easily  take  up  all  the  spare  room  in  the  brain  if  we  are 
to  think  in  this  quantitative  and  picture  fashion.  We 
conclude,  therefore,  that  Mr.  Spencer's  physiological 
annex  to  psychology  is  of  no  use  in  solving  the  spe- 
cial problems  of  psychology.  There  is,  indeed,  a  cer- 
tain general  relation  between  physical  conditions  and 
mental  conditions.  The  mind  cannot  act  with  proper 
energy  and  precision  unless  the  brain  be  in  a  fairly 
normal  condition,  and,  conversely,  the  brain  itself 
may  pass  into  an  abnormal  condition  through  men- 
tal disturbance.  The  widespread  belief  in  mind  cure 
in  its  various  forms  shows  a  strong  reaction  against 
this  earlier  notion,  which  made  the  mind  purely 
passive  so  that  it  counts  for  nothing.  There  is,  then, 
an  order  of  concomitant  variation  between  the  mind 
and  the  body,  a  knowledge  of  which  is  important  for 
both  physical  and  mental  health.  But  this  extends 
only  to  certain  general  laws  of  concomitant  develop- 
ment, laws  of  habit,  of  health,  of  rest  and  repair,  of 
general  influence  of  the  body  on  the  mind  and  of  the 
mind  on  the  body.  Beyond  these  things  no  concomit- 
ance can  be  discovered,  and  this  is  far  enough  from 
the  identification  which  is  itself  involved  in  the  view 
of  psycho-physical  parallelism. 


V 

SPENCER'S  EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

RETURNING  now  from  this  psychological  excursion, 
we  pass  to  the  philosophical  doctrine  of  mind  and 
knowledge.  A  very  large  part  of  Mr.  Spencer's  expo- 
sition is  the  traditional  empiricism,  with  sundry 
physiological  and  other  additions  of  his  own,  but  for 
the  most  part  Mr.  Spencer  simply  repeats  the  familiar 
traditions  of  the  school.  Two  points  in  general  are 
to  be  distinguished  in  discussing  this  matter:  first, 
the  forms  of  intellect  and  the  corresponding  forms 
of  experience,  and  second,  the  ultimate  warrant  of 
knowledge.  With  regard  to  the  first  point,  the  rational 
psychologist  holds  that  the  form  is  essential  to  the 
mind  and  is  contributed  by  the  mind  to  experience. 
The  empiricist  holds  that  the  form  in  both  cases  is 
the  product  of  sensations  and  their  laws.  The  ration- 
alist then  seeks  to  show  that  experience  is  impossible 
without  some  principle  of  form  in  the  mind,  and  the 
empiricist  seeks  to  show  that  form  and  faculty  alike 
are  the  outcome  of  association  and  sensation.  With 
regard  to  the  other  point,  the  rationalist  claims  that 
the  ultimate  test  and  warrant  of  truth  are  to  be  found 
in  the  mind  itself  or  in  its  own  native  power  to  know. 
The  empiricist,  on  the  other  hand,  holds  that  the  only 
warrant  for  believing  anything  whatever  is  the  fact 
that  it  has  been  found  valid  in  our  experience.  These 
two  points,  though  quite  distinct,  have  seldom  been 

388 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

clearly  separated  by  the  disciples  of  either  school, 
and  thus  differences  have  arisen  within  the  schools 
themselves.  Some  rationalists  have  devoted  them- 
selves entirely  to  proving  that  form  and  faculty  are 
innate  or  immanent  in  the  mind,  and  have  given 
no  thought  to  the  second  question.  But  that  their 
conclusion  from  innateness  to  universality  is  hasty  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  Kant  made  the  existence  of 
innate  faculties  and  forms  the  ground  for  denying 
absolute  knowledge.  Thus,  one  may  be  a  rationalist 
as  to  the  origin  of  faculty  and  a  relativist  or  agnostic 
with  regard  to  knowledge.  Among  the  empiricists 
also  we  find  like  diversity  of  aim  and  purpose.  Some, 
as  Condillac  and  Spencer,  confined  their  attention 
chiefly  to  the  genesis  of  faculty  and  belief.  They  seek 
to  identify  all  the  mental  functions,  such  as  memory, 
reason,  conscience,  judgment,  etc.,  as  modifications 
of  the  common  process  of  sensation.  Empiricists  of 
this  type  abound  in  appeals  to  heredity,  and  regard 
the  law  of  evolution  as  having  profound  significance 
for  the  problem,  expecially  because  it  furnishes  them 
with  the  time  needed  to  work  the  desired  transform- 
ations. Other  empiricists,  again,  as  J.  S.  Mill,  re- 
gard such  speculations  as  philosophically  irrelevant. 
Chauncey  Wright,  in  his  review  of  Spencer,  dealt 
very  severely  with  him  for  fancying  that  the  doctrine 
of  heredity  alters  the  case  in  the  least.  At  bottom, 
he  says,  the  crucial  question  is  not  how  we  come  to 
believe,  but  why  we  believe.  The  debate  then  involves 
two  questions,  the  one  psychological,  and  the  other 
logical  or  philosophical.  The  genesis  of  belief  is  dis- 
tinguished from  the  grounds  of  believing. 

389 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

The  general  aim  of  empiricism  is  to  explain  the 
higher  mental  forms  and  faculties  by  composition  of 
the  lower  sense  experiences.  Sometimes  they  call  it 
the  genetic  theory  of  mind.  We  see  how  mind  is 
built  up  stage  by  stage  from  its  crude  beginnings. 
There  is  in  this  a  certain  failure  to  analyze  the  pro- 
blem and  its  presuppositions.  In  general,  composition 
may  be  by  elements  essentially  related  to  the  product, 
or  by  elements  indifferent  to  it.  In  the  former  case, 
the  explanation  by  composition  presupposes  the  law 
of  the  product,  and  thus  explains  the  same  by  the 
same.  In  the  latter  case,  the  product  is  something 
fortuitous  so  far  as  the  explaining  elements  are  con- 
cerned, and  we  have  only  chance  as  the  principle  of 
explanation,  unless  we  assume  a  controlling  power 
apart  from  the  elements  which  contains  the  principle 
of  their  combination.  A  pile  of  stones  is  sufficiently 
accounted  for  by  the  individual  stones  that  make  up 
the  heap,  but  as  soon  as  we  come  to  anything  organic 
or  structural,  then  such  composition  no  longer  serves 
as  an  explanation.  In  some  sense  the  component 
bricks  in  a  house  explain  the  house,  but  they  do  not 
explain  it  except  as  we  assume  a  builder  apart  from 
them.  The  elements  in  such  cases  are  not  under  the 
law  of  the  whole,  and  if  we  attempt  to  explain  the 
composition  of  the  whole  by  the  elements,  we  do  it 
only  as  we  carry  the  law  of  the  whole  into  the  ele- 
ments themselves.  Literature,  again,  is  in  some  sense 
explained  by  words,  as  without  words  and  letters 
literature  would  not  exist.  But  while  words  and  let- 
ters are  the  instruments  for  the  expression  of  liter- 
ature, they  of  themselves  say  nothing  until  they  are 

390 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

united  into  rational  meaning  by  a  mind  that  uses 
them.  A  page  of  print  is  in  some  sense  explained  by 
the  body  of  type,  and  yet  the  composition  of  a  page 
demands,  in  addition  to  the  type  themselves,  the 
composer  to  put  them  into  their  proper  places. 
Organic  bodies  also  are  not  made  up  of  the  several 
organs  and  members  mechanically  juxtaposed,  but 
only  of  those  organs  and  members  as  parts  of  the 
living  body.  And  even  inorganic  structures,  such  as 
buildings  and  machines,  do  not  have  their  explana- 
tion in  the  component  matter  alone,  but  only  in  the 
law  of  the  whole,  which  uses  the  inorganic  matter 
for  its  realization.  The  same  is  true  for  all  mental 
syntheses.  If  the  synthesis  arises  from  mechanically 
putting  together  things  essentially  unrelated,  we  have 
mere  chance;  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  arises  from 
the  putting  together  of  things  which  are  already  under 
a  higher  mental  idea,  then  we  explain  the  higher 
form  by  assuming  it  in  principle  in  the  antecedents. 
And  this  whole  matter  of  genetic  procedure  in  general 
overlooks  the  fact  that  genesis  in  an  order  of  law 
must  be  determined  by  some  immanent  law  within 
the  process.  The  growth  of  an  organism  is  altogether 
unintelligible  as  an  external  grouping  of  mechanical 
elements.  It  can  be  understood  only  through  an 
immanent  law  which  determines  the  whole  process 
from  its  germinal  beginnings  to  its  mature  perfection. 
And  the  same  must  be  said  of  mental  syntheses.  If 
we  begin  with  sensations,  without  any  higher  rational 
principle,  there  is  no  assignable  reason  why  we  should 
ever  go  beyond  them;  and  if  we  do  go  beyond  them, 
it  can  be  only  as  the  mental  nature  is  not  exhausted 

391 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

in  the  crude  sense  fact,  but  also  involves  the  higher 
order  of  mental  manifestation.  In  that  case  all  al- 
leged geneses  or  genetic  procedures  can  be  nothing 
more  than  a  description  of  the  successive  order  of 
manifestation,  and  are  in  no  sense  a  deduction  of  the 
higher  mental  forms  from  earlier  mental  states  which 
did  not  imply  them;  just  as  in  the  development  of 
the  organism  we  look  upon  the  later  phases,  not  as 
adventitious  products  mechanically  taken  on  from 
without,  but  rather  as  successive  manifestations  of 
the  one  organic  law  that  underlies  the  whole.  But 
the  empiricists  in  general  have  not  been  content  to 
take  this  view,  but  rather  have  thought  that  the 
higher  forms  of  mental  life  were  produced  out  of  the 
lower.  The  untenability  of  this  view  is  already  appar- 
ent. It  is  interesting,  however,  to  trace  the  various 
efforts  at  such  explanation  and  the  failures  that  have 
resulted.  We  begin  with  the  idea  of  space. 

Herbart  in  Germany  and  the  sensationalists  in 
England  have  both  claimed  that  a  being  capable  of 
having  sensations  and  representations  in  time  must 
develop  the  idea  of  space.  It  is  not  plain  whether  the 
deductions  are  meant  to  deduce  a  knowledge  of  space 
as  a  reality,  or  only  the  development  of  the  idea 
from  non-spatial  elements  without  any  reference  to 
its  objective  reality  or  ideality,  but  in  both  cases  the 
psychological  theory  is  essentially  the  same.  As  good 
an  argument  as  any  for  their  view  is  the  following 
by  Mr.  Mill:  "Suppose,"  he  says,  "two  small  bodies, 
A  and  B,  sufficiently  near  together  to  admit  of  their 
being  touched  simultaneously,  one  with  the  right 
hand,  the  other  with  the  left.  Here  are  two  tactual 

392 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

sensations  which  are  simultaneous,  just  as  a  sensation 
of  color  and  one  of  odor  might  be;  and  this  makes 
us  cognize  the  two  objects  of  touch  as  both  existing 
at  once.  The  question  then  is,  what  have  we  in  our 
minds,  when  we  represent  to  ourselves  the  relation 
between  these  two  objects  already  known  to  be  simul- 
taneous, in  the  form  of  Extension,  or  intervening 
Space  —  a  relation  which  we  do  not  suppose  to  exist 
between  the  color  and  the  odor?"  Mr.  Mill  next 
points  out  that  the  peculiarity  is  that  in  passing  from 
A  to  B  a  series  of  muscular  sensations  must  intervene, 
and  continues:  — 

"When  we  say  that  there  is  a  space  between  A  and 
B,  we  mean  that  some  amount  of  these  muscular 
sensations  must  intervene;  and  when  we  say  that 
the  space  is  greater  or  less,  we  mean  that  the  series 
of  sensation  (amount  of  muscular  effort  being  given) 
is  longer  or  shorter." 

"The  theory  may  be  recapitulated  as  follows.  The 
sensation  of  muscular  motion  unimpeded  constitutes 
our  notion  of  empty  space,  and  the  sensation  of  mus- 
cular motion  impeded  constitutes  that  of  filled  space. 
Space  is  Room  —  room  for  movement;  which  its 
German  name,  Raum,  distinctly  confirms.  We  have 
a  sensation  which  accompanies  the  free  movement  of 
our  organs,  say  for  instance  of  our  arm.  This  sensa- 
tion is  variously  modified  by  the  direction,  and  by  the 
amount  of  the  movement.  We  have  different  states 
of  muscular  sensation  corresponding  to  the  move- 
ments of  the  arm  upward,  downward,  to  right,  to 
left,  or  in  any  radius  whatever,  of  a  sphere  of  which 
the  joint,  that  the  arm  revolves  around,  forms  the 

393 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

centre.  We  have  also  different  states  of  muscular 
sensation  according  as  the  arm  is  moved  more, 
whether  this  consists  in  its  being  moved  with  greater 
velocity  or  with  the  same  velocity  during  a  longer 
time;  and  the  equivalence  of  these  two  is  speedily 
learned  by  experience.  These  different  kinds  and 
qualities  of  muscular  sensation,  experienced  in  get- 
ting from  one  point  to  another  (that  is,  obtaining  in 
succession  two  sensations  of  touch  and  resistance, 
the  objects  of  which  are  regarded  as  simultaneous), 
are  all  we  mean  by  saying  that  the  points  are  separ- 
ated by  spaces,  that  they  are  at  different  distances, 
and  in  different  directions.  .  .  .  It  appears  to  me  that 
this  doctrine  is  sound,  and  that  the  muscular  sensa- 
tions in  question  are  the  sources  of  all  the  notion 
of  Extension  which  we  should  ever  obtain  from  the 
tactual  and  muscular  senses  without  the  assistance 
of  the  eye." l 

There  is  a  fundamental  unclearness  running 
through  this  exposition  which  makes  it  uncertain 
whether  these  sensations  are  the  sensations  of  space 
or  produce  it.  Both  possibilities  run  along  in  indefin- 
ite oscillation,  so  that  either  seems  to  be  on  the  point 
of  becoming  the  other.  We  must  discuss  them  separ- 
ately. 

No  sensations,  muscular  or  otherwise,  are  capable 
of  originating  the  space  idea.  The  apparent  success 
of  Mill's  attempt  is  due  entirely  to  the  space  implica- 
tions of  the  terms  used.  Thus  we  have  "direction," 
"movement,"  "velocity,"  "downward,"  "upward," 

1  Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  vol.  i,  pp. 
280-82. 

394 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

"right,"  "left."  A  and  B  are  also  spoken  of  as  co- 
existent bodies  and  sufficiently  near  together  to  be 
touched  by  each  of  our  hands  respectively  at  the  same 
time,  and  we  are  supposed  to  pass  back  and  forth 
from  one  to  the  other.  Of  course,  if  all  these  terms  are 
understood  in  their  spatial  significance,  it  would  be 
very  easy  to  deduce  the  idea  from  the  experience  de- 
scribed, for  we  should  have  the  idea  already  in  a  state 
of  high  development.  If,  now,  we  do  not  propose  to 
beg  the  question,  we  must  carefully  eliminate  all  these 
terms.  We  know  nothing  of  movement  or  velocity  or 
direction.  We  must  not  assume  that  A  and  B  coexist 
in  space  or  in  mutual  externality,  for  this  would  beg 
the  question.  Coexistent  and  sequent  sensations  in 
time,  like  or  unlike,  are  all  that  is  given.  If  there  be 
sensations  attending  movement  and  change  of  direc- 
tion and  velocity,  they  are  not  yet  interpreted  by  the 
notions  of  movement,  direction,  and  velocity.  All  this 
is  to  be  deduced.  Hence,  when  we  speak  of  passing 
from  A,  all  that  we  can  mean  is  that  the  sensation,  A, 
ceases  to  exist,  and  our  return  to  A  can  only  mean  the 
occurrence  of  a  similar  sensation  as  when  we  sing  the 
musical  scale  up  and  down.  To  assume  that  it  is  a 
movement  to  and  from  a  fixed  object,  A,  which  coex- 
ists with  another  fixed  object,  V,  external  to  it,  would 
beg  the  question.  We  should  be  seeking  to  deduce 
the  idea  of  space  from  muscular  sensations,  which, 
however,  arise  from  certain  movements  known  as 
movements  between  two  bodies  known  to  coexist  in 
mutual  externality.  It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if 
such  a  deduction  were  not  victoriously  successful. 
But  when  we  are  careful  to  deny  ourselves  the  luxury 

395 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

of  begging  the  question,  it  turns  out  that  we  never  get 
beyond  coexistent  and  sequent  sensations  in  time. 

This  argument  has  been  given  at  much  greater 
length  by  Mr.  Spencer,  yet  without  adding  anything 
to  its  real  strength.  He  is  far  more  ambiguous  than 
Mill  in  some  of  the  leading  terms  and  expressions 
employed  in  his  discussion.  Thus  we  have  the  word 
"serial,"  which  may  be  used  in  speaking  either  of  time 
or  space,  but  the  serial  in  time  is  not  the  same  as  the 
serial  in  space.  Similarly  with  the  phrase,  "relations 
of  position  or  relative  positions,"  which  may  have 
either  spatial  or  temporal  significance.  "Coexistence" 
and  "coexistent"  likewise  are  terms  used  with  great 
ambiguity.  Like  Mr.  Mill,  he  makes  great  use  of 
muscular  sensations  and  also  tactual  sensations.  The 
space  relation  between  two  sensitive  points  on  the 
body  is  discovered  by  the  muscular  feelings  accom- 
panying the  motion  of  an  organ  from  one  to  the  other. 
He  argues  as  follows:  — 

"Taking  for  our  subject  a  partially  developed  crea- 
ture, having  a  nervous  structure  that  is  able  to  receive 
the  data  for  the  cognition,  but  in  which  the  data  are 
not  yet  coordinated,  let  us  call  the  two  points  on  its 
body  between  which  a  relation  is  to  be  established,  A 
and  Z.  Let  us  assume  these  two  points  to  be  anywhere 
within  reach  of  the  limbs.  By  the  hypothesis,  nothing 
is  at  present  known  of  these  points;  either  as  coexisting 
in  Space,  as  giving  successive  sensations  in  Time,  or 
as  being  brought  into  relation  by  Motion.  If  now  the 
creature  moves  a  limb  in  such  a  way  as  to  touch  no- 
thing, there  is  a  certain  vague  reaction  upon  its  con- 
sciousness —  a  sensation  of  muscular  tension.  This 

396 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

sensation  has  the  peculiarity  of  being  indefinite  in  its 
commencement,  indefinite  in  its  termination,  and  in- 
definite in  all  its  intermediate  changes.  .  .  .  Mani- 
festly, such  a  consciousness  is  but  a  nascent  conscious- 
ness. While  its  states  are  thus  indistinctly  separated, 
there  can  be  no  clear  comparison  of  them;  no  classing 
of  them;  no  thought,  properly  so  called;  and  conse- 
quently, no  ideas  of  Motion,  Time,  or  Space,  as  we 
understand  them.  Suppose  that  the  limb  touches 
something.  A  sudden  change  in  consciousness  is  pro- 
duced —  a  change  that  is  incisive  in  its  commence- 
ment, and,  when  the  limb  is  removed,  equally  incisive 
in  its  termination.  In  the  midst  of  the  continuous 
feeling  of  muscular  tension,  vaguely  rising  and  falling 
in  intensity,  there  all  at  once  occurs  a  distinct  feeling 
of  another  kind.  This  feeling,  beginning  and  ending 
abruptly,  constitutes  a  definite  state  of  consciousness; 
and  becomes,  as  it  were,  a  mark  in  consciousness. 
Other  such  marks  are  produced  by  other  such  acts; 
and  in  proportion  as  they  are  multiplied  there  arises  a 
possibility  of  comparing  them,  both  in  respect  to  their 
strengths  and  in  respect  to  their  relative  positions.  At 
the  same  time  the  feelings  of  muscular  tension  being, 
as  it  were,  divided  into  lengths  by  these  super-posed 
marks,  become  similarly  comparable;  and  so  there 
are  acquired  materials  for  a  simple  order  of  thought. 
Observe,  also,  that  while  these  tactual  sensations 
may,  when  several  things  are  touched  in  succession, 
produce  successive  marks  in  consciousness,  separ- 
ated by  intervening  muscular  sensations,  they  may 
also  become  concurrent  with  these  muscular  sensa- 
tions; as  when  the  end  of  the  limb  is  drawn  along  a 

897 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

surface.  And  observe  further,  that  when  the  surface 
over  which  the  end  of  the  limb  is  drawn  is  not  a  for- 
eign body,  but  some  part  of  the  creature's  own  body, 
these  muscular  sensations,  and  the  continuous  tactual 
sensation  joined  with  them,  are  accompanied  by  a 
series  of  tactual  sensations  proceeding  from  that  part 
of  the  skin  over  which  the  limb  is  drawn. 

"See,  then,  what  happens  and  what  is  implied. 
When  the  creature  moves  the  end  of  a  limb  along  the 
surface  of  its  body  from  A  to  Z,  there  are  simultane- 
ously impressed  on  its  consciousness  three  sets  of 
sensations  —  the  varying  series  of  sensations  proceed- 
ing from  the  muscles  in  action:  the  series  of  tactual 
sensations  proceeding  from  the  points  of  the  skin  suc- 
cessively touched  between  A  and  Z;  and  the  continu- 
ous sensation  of  touch  from  the  end  of  the  limb.  .  .  . 
Every  subsequent  motion  of  the  limb  over  the  sur- 
face from  A  to  Z  results  in  the  like  simultaneous  sets 
of  sensations;  and  hence  these,  in  course  of  time, 
become  indissolubly  associated.  Though  the  series 
of  tactual  sensations,  A  to  Z,  being  producible  by  a 
foreign  body  moving  over  the  same  surface,  can  be 
dissociated  from  the  others;  and  though,  if  this  sur- 
face (which  we  will  suppose  to  be  on  the  head)  be 
withdrawn  by  a  movement  of  the  head,  the  same 
motion  of  the  limb  with  its  accompanying  muscular 
sensations,  may  occur  without  any  sensation  of  touch; 
yet  when  these  two  series  are  linked  by  the  tactual 
sensation  proceeding  from  the  end  of  the  limb,  they 
necessarily  proceed  together,  and  become  inseparably 
connected  in  thought.  Consequently,  the  series  of 
tactual  sensations  A  to  Z,  and  the  series  of  muscular 

398 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

sensations  which  invariably  accompanies  it  when  self- 
produced,  serve  as  equivalents;  and  being  two  sides  of 
the  same  experience,  suggest  each  other  in  conscious- 
ness. The  successive  feelings  on  the  skin  being  excited, 
association  brings  up  ideas  of  the  habitually-correlated 
feelings  in  the  limb;  and  the  feelings  in  the  limb  being 
excited,  association  brings  up  ideas  of  the  habitually- 
correlated  feelings  on  the  skin.  Due  attention  having 
been  paid  to  this  fact,  let  us  go  on  to  consider  what 
must  happen  when  something  touches,  at  the  same 
moment,  the  entire  surface  between  A  and  Z.  This 
surface  is  supplied  by  a  series  of  independent  nerve- 
fibres,  each  of  which  separately  is  affected  by  an  im- 
pression falling  within  a  specific  area  of  the  skin,  and 
each  of  which  produces  a  separate  state  of  conscious- 
ness. When  the  finger  is  drawn  along  this  surface, 
these  nerve-fibres  A,  B,  C,D...Z,  are  excited  in 
succession;  that  is — produce  successive  states  of 
consciousness.  But  when  something  covers  the  whole 
surface  between  A  and  Z,  they  are  excited  simultane- 
ously; and  produce  what  tends  to  become  a  single 
state  of  consciousness.  .  .  .  What  it  now  concerns  us 
to  notice  is  this :  —  that  as  the  series  of  tactual  feelings 
A  to  Z,  known  as  having  sequent  positions  in  conscious- 
ness, is  found  to  be  equivalent  to  the  accompanying  series 
of  muscular  feelings;  and  as  it  is  also  found  to  be  equiv- 
alent to  the  simultaneous  tactual  feelings  A  to  Z9  which 
are  presented  in  coexistent  positions;  it  follows  that  these 
two  last  are  found  to  be  equivalents  to  each  other.  A 
series  of  muscular  sensations  become  known  as  corre- 
sponding to  a  series  of  coexistent  positions;  and  being 
habitually  joined  with  it,  become  at  last  unthinkable 

399 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

without  it.  Thus,  the  relation  of  coexistent  positions 
between  the  points  A  and  Z  (and  by  implication  all 
intermediate  points),  is  necessarily  disclosed  by  a 
comparison  of  experiences:  the  ideas  of  Space,  Time 
and  Motion,  are  evolved  together.  When  the  suc- 
cessive states  of  consciousness  A  to  Z,  are  thought  of 
as  having  relative  positions,  the  notion  of  Time  be- 
comes nascent.  When  these  states  of  consciousness 
occur  simultaneously,  their  relative  positions,  which 
were  before  sequent,  become  coexistent;  and  there 
arises  a  nascent  consciousness  of  Space.  And  when 
these  two  relations  of  coexistent  and  sequent  positions 
are  both  presented  to  consciousness  along  with  a  series 
of  sensations  of  muscular  tension,  a  nascent  idea  of 
Motion  results."  ("Principles  of  Psychology,"  vol. 
n,  pp.  220-25.) 

It  will  be  seen  that  this  account  is  much  more  com- 
plex than  that  of  Mr.  Mill,  but  except  in  the  compli- 
cation it  has  no  logical  change.  Mr.  Mill  dealt  with 
the  muscular  series  especially.  Mr.  Spencer  intro- 
duces both  tactual  and  muscular  sensations  and  also 
the  idea  of  coexistent  consciousness  of  states.  In  this 
we  have  greater  possibilities  of  confusion.  The  tact- 
ual and  the  muscular  may  even  seem  to  coexist  in 
consciousness  and  to  have  lost  their  sequent  character 
altogether.  In  fact,  however,  this  is  only  confusion. 
To  begin  with,  the  temporal  can  exist  only  for  that 
which  is  non-temporal.  A  sequence  of  sensations  is 
never  a  comprehension  of  sequence.  If  there  were  no- 
thing but  sequent  sensations,  there  would  never  be 
any  conception  of  sequence  whatever;  for  each  sensa- 
tion would  go  off  by  itself  and  there  would  be  no  con- 

400 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

sciousness  to  compare  the  successive  sensations  with 
one  another  and  to  contrast  them  with  the  abiding 
self.  Under  these  circumstances  the  conception  of 
sequence  would  never  arise,  even  though  there  should 
be  an  eternity  of  sequent  sensations.  Here  Mr. 
Spencer  simply  falls  into  the  traditional  error  of  the 
associationalists  in  overlooking  the  abiding  self,  which 
is  necessary  even  to  the  simplest  knowledge  of  se- 
quence. 

For  the  rest,  the  quotation  given  merely  confuses 
coexistence  and  sequence  in  consciousness  with  co- 
existence in  space.  After  long  dwelling  upon  this  fact, 
that  the  tactual,  visual,  and  muscular  series  may  be 
spoken  of  as  temporally  coexistent,  it  may  occur  to  us 
that  space  itself  is  an  order  of  coexistence,  and  then 
we  may  fancy  the  problem  solved.  Mr.  Spencer's 
illustration  of  the  body,  with  its  surface  and  with 
sensations  arising  from  motion  across  the  surface, 
merely  serves  to  beg  the  question.  It  is  very  difficult 
to  keep  the  idea  of  space  involved  in  such  metaphors 
from  creeping  into  the  reasoning,  and  then  the  ques- 
tion is  triumphantly  begged.  But  when  we  carefully 
guard  against  this,  it  is  plain  that  we  have  only  quali- 
tative distinct  sensations  at  the  start.  We  may  pos- 
sibly give  this  a  temporal  order,  and  beyond  that  there 
is  no  possibility  of  going.  These  temporal  sensations 
have  in  them  no  suggestion  of  space.  They  have  no 
spatial  qualities  or  relations  in  themselves.  They  are 
not  spatially  external  to  one  another  and  they  have 
no  spatial  position.  Out  of  such  data  it  is  forever 
impossible  to  deduce  anything  totally  distinct. 

Mr.  Spencer  has  elsewhere  sought  to  deduce  the 

401 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

space  idea  from  the  time  idea.  In  "First  Principles," 
page  146,  he  says:  "Now  relations  are  of  two  orders  — 
relations  of  sequence,  and  relations  of  coexistence;  of 
which  the  one  is  original  and  the  other  derived.  The 
relation  of  sequence  is  given  in  every  change  of  con- 
sciousness. The  relation  of  coexistence,  which  cannot 
be  originally  given  in  a  consciousness  of  which  the 
states  are  serial,  becomes  distinguished  only  when  it  is 
found  that  certain  relations  of  sequence  have  their 
terms  presented  in  consciousness  in  either  order  with 
equal  facility;  while  the  others  are  presented  only  in 
one  order.  Relations  of  which  the  terms  are  not  re- 
versible, become  recognized  as  sequences  proper;  while 
relations  of  which  the  terms  occur  indifferently  in  both 
directions,  become  recognized  as  coexistences.  End- 
less experiences,  which  from  moment  to  moment  pre- 
sent both  orders  of  these  relations,  render  the  distinc- 
tion between  them  perfectly  definite;  and  at  the  same 
time  generate  an  abstract  conception  of  each.  The 
abstract  of  all  sequences  is  Time.  The  abstract  of  all 
coexistences  is  Space."  This  exposition  is  given  in  all 
the  editions  of  "First  Principles,"  and  was  therefore 
written  before  and  retained  after  the  quotation  before 
given  from  the  "Principles  of  Psychology."  In  the 
"Psychology,"  Spencer  seems  to  regard  motion  as  an 
earlier  experience  than  that  of  space  and  time,  and 
concludes  that  the  three  ideas  develop  together;  but  in 
the  quotation  just  given  it  would  seem  that  the  time 
experience  is  original  and  the  space  experience  is  de- 
rived, and  that  the  distinction  between  the  space  and 
time  experience  is  found  in  the  possibility  of  revers- 
ing the  space  series,  which  cannot  be  done  in  time. 

402 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

Thus,  by  turning  our  eyes  from  right  to  left  we  get  a 
given  series  of  sensations.  By  turning  them  back 
again  from  left  to  right  we  get  the  same  sensations 
reversed.  The  same  is  true  for  touch.  We  can  touch 
a  series  of  objects  in  a  given  order  and  then  reverse  it, 
but  this  reversibility  is  what  distinguishes  the  spatial 
series  from  the  temporal.  The  time  series  goes  on 
forever  and  never  turns  back.  But  the  space  series 
admits  of  being  reversed  indefinitely  and  as  often  as 
we  may  desire.  Thus  the  idea  of  space  is  reached  by 
differentiation  of  the  time  series. 

But  this  is  equally  untenable.  The  reversibility 
of  a  space  series  depends  upon  its  being  a  space  series. 
We  can  reverse  many  time  series  without  ever  getting 
any  hint  of  space.  Thus  we  can  sing  the  musical  scale 
up  and  down  indefinitely,  but  there  is  nothing  in  that 
to  suggest  the  idea  of  space,  and  there  would  never  be 
in  any  temporal  inversion  a  suggestion  of  the  idea  of 
space  unless  the  series  were  already  fixed  as  spatial. 

In  all  this,  too,  it  is  not  clear  whether  Mr.  Spencer 
is  trying  to  deduce  the  idea  of  space  from  non-spatial 
elements  as  something  distinct  from  them,  or  whether 
he  is  calling  a  certain  group  of  temporal  elements 
space.  As  to  his  ontological  theory,  he  holds  to  some 
form  of  objective  reality  in  space.  Our  conception  of 
it  is  indeed  relative,  but  there  is  some  independent 
fact  behind  what  we  call  space  as  some  mode  of  the 
Unknowable.  This  is  his  metaphysical  view,  but  in 
his  theory  of  knowledge  he  fails  to  justify  such  a  con- 
ception. Whatever  Mr.  Spencer  meant  to  do,  he 
really  gives  us  only  temporal  sensations  in  various 
orders,  and  he  calls  certain  orders  spatial.  But  this  is 

403 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

far  enough  from  deducing  the  idea  of  space,  and  in 
general  it  is  clear,  as  already  said,  that,  in  explaining 
higher  mental  facts  by  the  composition  of  lower  ones, 
the  composition  must  be  determined  by  the  character 
of  its  components. 

If,  then,  we  try  to  construct  an  idea  of  space  out  of 
spaceless  elements,  it  is  impossible  to  do  this  unless 
we  assume  in  the  elements  themselves  some  kind  of 
spatial  principle,  whereby  they  produce,  as  something 
different  from  themselves,  the  spatial  idea.  But  in 
that  case  we  should  not  really  deduce  the  idea  of  space 
from  the  non-spatial,  but  rather  deduce  it  from  ele- 
ments with  some  immanent  spatial  principle  in  them. 
Unless  we  do  this,  we  have  to  say  that  a  certain  group- 
ing of  non-spatial  elements  is  the  idea  of  space.  This 
is  the  view  before  suggested  as  possible.  We  cannot 
admit  that  the  space  order  can  be  deduced  from  the 
non-spatial,  but  we  may  seek  to  identify  the  space 
order  with  certain  forms  of  our  non-spatial  experience. 
This  is  the  view  mentioned  as  contained  in  Mill's 
argument,  —  "When  we  say  that  there  is  a  space  be- 
tween A  and  B,  we  mean  that  some  amount  of  these 
muscular  sensations  must  intervene."  This  implies, 
not  that  muscular  sensations  produce  the  idea  of  space 
as  something  apart,  but  that  when  associated,  certain 
muscular  and  tactual  sensations  are  the  idea  of  space. 
But  this  idea  refuses  to  be  identified  in  any  way  with 
any  kind  or  amount  of  sensations.  Sensations  may 
serve  as  a  measure  of  space  and  they  may  furnish  the 
conditions  under  which  the  space  idea  is  educed,  but 
no  identification  is  possible.  To  see  this  we  need  only 
attempt  to  enunciate  a  geometrical  proposition  in 

404 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

terms  of  sensation,  say  the  square  of  the  hypothenuse 
is  equal  to  the  sum  of  the  squares  on  the  other  two 
sides.  It  would  be  hard  to  translate  this  into  terms  of 
the  relations  of  different  groups  of  sensation.  A  geo- 
metrical representation  of  the  square  root  of  two  is 
not  hard  to  understand  in  space  terms,  but  it  would 
require  the  greatest  penetration  to  identify  it  with 
temporal  sensations,  whether  coexistent  or  successive. 

All  of  these  empirical  attempts  to  reach  the  idea 
of  space  without  appealing  to  some  immanent  spatial 
law  in  the  mind  fail  to  distinguish  between  our  every- 
day space  experience  and  the  spatial  intuition  which 
underlies  geometry.  In  the  former  case  we  might  in  a 
fashion  substitute  for  distance,  direction,  etc.,  sundry 
physical  experiences.  And  these,  though  not  space  in 
themselves,  may  yet  be  used  as  a  measure  of  space, 
so  much  muscular  effort,  etc.  So  many  organic  sen- 
sations of  one  kind  and  another  might  in  a  fashion  be 
put  as  the  equivalent  of  space  experience,  because 
these  things  would  enter  into  such  spatial  experience. 
At  the  same  time  they  would  in  no  way  give  the  spa- 
tial form  itself.  But  when  we  come  to  the  spatial 
intuition  on  which  geometry  is  based,  we  then  have 
something  which  can  in  no  way  be  related  to  sense 
experience.  This  is  pure  intuition,  and  the  elements 
of  this  intuition  cannot  even  be  given  in  any  sense 
experience.  The  points,  lines,  and  surfaces  of  geo- 
metry cannot  be  discovered  in  sense  or  abstracted 
from  sense.  Here  the  mind  is  the  source  of  both  the 
elements  and  the  combinations. 

Mr.  Spencer  himself  gives  a  very  interesting  pass- 
age on  this  matter  of  space,  which  shows  a  conception 

405 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

in  his  mind  that  his  theory  of  knowledge  would  never 
enable  him  to  reach,  and  also  shows  spatial  concep- 
tions far  outrunning  anything  possible  to  sense  ex- 
perience. The  passage  itself  is  one  of  the  last  things 
he  published,  and  is  given  in  his  "Facts  and  Com- 
ments" in  the  closing  paragraph:  — 

"There  is  one  aspect  of  the  Great  Enigma  to  which 
little  attention  seems  given,  but  which  has  of  late 
years  more  frequently  impressed  me.  I  refer  not  to 
the  problems  which  all  concrete  existences,  from  suns 
down  to  microbes,  present,  but  to  those  presented 
by  the  universal  form  under  which  these  exist  —  the 
phenomena  of  Space. 

"In  youth  we  pass  by  without  surprise  the  geo- 
metrical truths  set  down  in  our  Euclids.  It  suffices  to 
learn  that  in  a  right-angled  triangle  the  square  of  the 
hypothenuse  is  equal  to  the  sum  of  the  squares  of  the 
other  two  sides :  it  is  demonstrable,  and  that  is  enough. 
Concerning  the  multitudes  of  remarkable  relations 
among  lines  and  among  spaces  very  few  ever  ask, 
Why  are  they  so?  Perhaps  the  question  may  in  later 
years  be  raised,  as  it  has  been  in  myself,  by  some 
of  the  more  conspicuously  marvelous  truths  now 
grouped  under  the  title  of  the  'Geometry  of  Posi- 
tion.' Many  of  these  are  so  astounding  that  but  for 
the  presence  of  ocular  proof  they  would  be  incredible; 
and  by  their  marvelousness  as  well  as  by  their  beauty, 
they  serve,  in  some  minds  at  least,  to  raise  the  unan- 
swerable question  —  How  come  there  to  exist  among 
the  parts  of  this  seemingly-structureless  vacancy 
we  call  Space,  these  strange  relations?  How  does  it 
happen  that  the  blank  form  of  things  presents  us  with 

406 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

truths  as  incomprehensible  as  do  the  things  it  con- 
tains? 

"Beyond  the  reach  of  our  intelligence  as  are  the 
mysteries  of  the  objects  known  by  our  senses,  those 
presented  in  this  universal  matrix  are,  if  we  may  so 
say,  still  further  beyond  the  reach  of  our  intelligence; 
for  whereas  those  of  the  one  kind  may  be,  and  are, 
thought  of  by  many  as  explicable  on  the  hypothesis 
of  Creation,  and  by  the  rest  on  the  hypothesis  of 
Evolution,  those  of  the  other  kind  cannot  by  either 
be  regarded  as  thus  explicable.  Theist  and  Agnostic 
must  agree  in  recognizing  the  properties  of  Space  as 
inherent,  eternal,  uncreated  —  as  anteceding  all  cre- 
ation, if  creation  has  taken  place,  and  all  evolution, 
if  evolution  has  taken  place. 

"Hence,  could  we  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  exist- 
ence, there  would  remain  still  more  transcendent 
mysteries.  That  which  can  be  thought  of  neither  as 
made  nor  evolved  presents  us  with  facts  the  origin  of 
which  is  even  more  remote  from  conceivability  than 
is  the  origin  of  the  facts  presented  by  visible  and 
tangible  things.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  how  there 
came  to  exist  the  marvelous  space-relations  referred 
to  above.  We  are  obliged  to  recognize  these  as  having 
belonged  to  Space  from  all  eternity. 

"And  then  comes  the  thought  of  this  universal 
matrix  itself,  anteceding  alike  creation  or  evolution, 
whichever  be  assumed,  and  infinitely  transcending 
both,  alike  in  extent  and  duration;  since  both,  if 
conceived  at  all,  must  be  conceived  as  having  had 
beginnings,  while  Space  had  no  beginning.  The 
thought  of  this  blank  form  of  existence  which,  ex- 

407 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

plored  in  all  directions  as  far  as  imagination  can 
reach,  has,  beyond  that,  an  unexplored  region  com- 
pared with  which  the  part  which  imagination  has 
traversed  is  but  infinitesimal  —  the  thought  of  a 
Space  compared  with  which  our  immeasurable  side- 
real system  dwindles  to  a  point,  is  a  thought  too  over- 
whelming to  be  dwelt  upon.  Of  late  years  the  con- 
sciousness that  without  origin  or  cause  infinite  Space 
has  ever  existed  and  must  ever  exist,  produces  in  me 
a  feeling  from  which  I  shrink." 

This  is  a  most  interesting  passage  in  many  ways. 
It  is  highly  interesting  in  itself,  as  a  suggestion  of  a 
deep  mystery  contained  in  the  spatial  intuition.  It 
has  an  additional  interest  in  Mr.  Spencer's  case,  as 
showing  a  different  state  of  mind  from  that  revealed 
in  his  "First  Principles,"  where  the  conception  of 
anything  infinite  and  eternal  was  especially  perhor- 
resced;  and  it  is  further  interesting  as  showing  that 
he  could  break  away  from  his  empirical  theory  of 
knowledge.  The  conception  of  space  here  set  forth 
was  not  reached  by  rubbing  one  end  of  a  limb  over 
a  patch  of  skin. 

We  conclude,  then,  that  Mr.  Spencer  has  not  suc- 
ceeded any  better  than  his  predecessors  in  deducing 
the  higher  ideas  and  mental  forms  from  the  lower 
and  very  simple  ones.  It  is  not  necessary  to  consider 
the  deduction  of  other  ideas,  such  as  identity,  causa- 
tion, etc.  The  example  already  given  shows  both  the 
ingenuity  of  the  process  and  its  failure. 

Mr.  Spencer,  then,  succeeds  no  better  than  the 
traditional  empiricism  in  deducing  the  higher  forms 
of  mentality  from  the  lower  elements  of  sensation. 

408 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

He  equally  fails,  as  we  now  proceed  to  show,  in  de- 
ducing knowledge.  In  the  matter  just  discussed, 
empiricism  is  related  to  psychology.  In  the  matter 
now  to  be  considered,  it  is  related  to  truth.  How  do 
we  distinguish  truth  from  error  and  how  do  we  learn 
truth  in  general? 

In  this  matter,  also,  traditional  empiricism  has  had 
much  trouble.  It  has  sought  to  deduce  belief  and  con- 
viction from  habit.  Things,  when  they  come  together 
in  experience,  produce  expectation  and  ways  of  think- 
ing. And  thus  by  association  habits  of  thought  and 
belief  are  formed,  and  these  are  really  what  we  call  the 
intuitions  of  intelligence.  They  are  slowly  piled  up 
by  the  long  experience  of  the  race.  The  principles  of 
arithmetic  and  geometry,  the  belief  in  causality,  and 
the  various  formal  truths  of  reason  are  thought  to  be 
reached  in  this  way.  This,  it  will  be  seen,  is  a  separ- 
ate question  from  the  other  one,  of  the  production 
of  mental  forms,  and  it  is  on  this  question  that  some 
of  the  chief  debates  with  empiricism  have  raged.  The 
aim  of  the  empiricist  is  to  generate  the  conviction  of 
rational  connection  by  continuous  association.  The 
strength  of  association  varies  with  frequency,  and 
hence  uniform  association  must,  it  was  claimed,  gen- 
erate necessity  of  thought  and  belief.  Apart  from 
experience  the  mind  would  know  and  expect  nothing. 
The  only  reason  we  have  for  saying  that  any  elements 
belong  together  is  that  we  find  them  coming  together 
in  experience.  How  otherwise  do  we  learn  the  laws  of 
mind  except  by  observing  the  laws  of  nature? 

The  plausibility  of  this  view  is  largely  due  to  its 
ambiguity.  It  may  mean  that  conjunction  is  the  mark 

409 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

of  rational  connection  and  it  may  mean  that  conjunc- 
tion is  the  true  meaning  of  connection.  In  the  latter 
case  we  fall  a  prey  to  Hume's  destructive  criticism, 
and  reason  vanishes  entirely.  In  the  former  case 
we  say  nothing  to  the  purpose.  Of  course  a  rational 
mind,  impelled  by  its  nature  to  seek  connection,  will 
surely  view  a  continuous  coming  together  as  a  mark 
of  belonging  together.  But  this  is  not  to  deduce  con- 
nection from  conjunction;  it  is  rather  to  apply  the 
principle  of  rational  connection  to  the  explanation  of 
empirical  conjunctions.  The  truths  of  inductive  sci- 
ence are,  indeed,  in  a  way,  won  from  experience;  but 
not  by  simply  reading  off  what  is  given  in  sense,  but 
rather  by  transforming  the  sense  data  through  the 
application  of  a  rational  idea. 

Any  further  plausibility  the  view  may  have  is  due 
to  the  assumption,  implied  or  expressed,  of  a  fixed 
objective  order.  This  order  has  its  uniformities  of 
connection  which  reproduce  themselves  in  uniformi- 
ties of  experience,  and  these  in  turn  become  uniformi- 
ties of  thought.  This  view  has  all  the  superficialities  of 
empiricism  in  general,  and  in  addition,  as  we  shall  see, 
has  its  own  special  inconsistencies,  in  that  it  dogmati- 
cally assumes  a  system  of  metaphysics  impossible  to 
empiricism.  Nevertheless,  this  has  become  the  pre- 
vailing form  of  empirical  doctrine,  and  in  the  form 
of  mental  heredity  has  introduced  a  novelty  into  the 
discussion.  This  we  have  now  to  consider. 

The  aim  of  empiricism,  as  we  have  said,  is  to  gen- 
erate the  conviction  of  connection  by  recurrent  asso- 
ciation. To  this  the  rather  superficial  answer  was 
given  that  the  most  assured  beliefs  often  appear  very 

410 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

early  in  the  experience  of  the  individual,  and  that  the 
time  was  too  short  for  association  to  work  its  wonders. 
To  be  sure,  the  empiricists  ground  away  at  the  asso- 
ciational  mill  with  the  utmost  briskness,  but  they 
found  it  exceedingly  difficult  to  furnish  a  full  set  of 
beliefs  in  the  early  years  of  infancy  and  childhood. 

But  this  particular  argument  had  the  misfortune 
to  mislead  criticism  by  a  side  issue.  It  suggested  that 
the  great  difficulty  with  empiricism  is  the  lack  of  time 
for  working  its  transformations,  which  is  a  sad  mis- 
take. The  essential  difficulty  with  the  doctrine,  as 
we  shall  see,  is  the  complete  incommensurability  be- 
tween its  data  and  its  assumed  products,  and  the 
longest  time  is  as  powerless  as  the  shortest  to  remove 
this  fact.  When  the  doctrine  is  taken  in  earnest,  it 
is  intelligible  only  because  it  is  false.  But  the  mis- 
leading suggestion  having  been  made  that  lack  of 
time  is  the  chief  shortcoming,  it  was  natural  to  look 
about  to  see  if  this  failing  could  not  be  remedied. 
Here  comes  in  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine  of  a  race  ex- 
perience, which  is  his  device  for  removing  the  diffi- 
culties of  empiricism  and  also  for  uniting  the  empirical 
and  rational  schools.  He  pointed  out  that  the  indi- 
vidual experience  is  really  not  capable  of  explaining 
all  that  the  individual  mind  possesses.  The  facts  of 
mental  heredity  forbade  such  a  notion.  We  must  then 
grant  the  rationalists'  claim  that  the  individual  ex- 
perience is  no  sufficient  explanation  of  the  individ- 
ual's knowledge,  but  we  may  not  assume  that  mind 
has  always  had  an  a  priori  factor  in  it,  for  that  which 
the  individual's  experience  cannot  explain,  the  experi- 
ence of  the  race  may  do.  By  combining  the  facts  of 

411 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

mental  heredity  with  the  current  theory  of  biological 
evolution,  it  seemed  possible  to  substitute  for  the 
experience  of  the  individual  the  experience  of  the 
race  and  even  the  experience  of  all  our  pre-human 
and  sub-human  ancestors.  Thus  a  great  extension  of 
time  was  secured,  and  with  the  new  capital  acquired 
by  the  brilliant  stroke,  empiricism  set  up  business 
again  and  is  now  operating  almost  exclusively  on  this 
basis.  Thus  apriorism  and  empiricism  are  recon- 
ciled. The  former  is  true  for  the  individual;  the  latter 
is  true  for  the  race.  The  individual's  experience  is 
preformed  in  its  great  outlines,  and  in  this  sense  is 
innate.  But  there  is  nothing  in  the  individual  which 
cannot  be  explained  by  the  experience  of  the  race;  for 
these  inborn  outlines  in  the  individual  are  but  the 
net  result  of  all  ancestral  experience,  consolidated  by 
indefinite  repetition  and  handed  on  by  heredity. 

The  alacrity  with  which  the  empiricists  flocked  to 
the  new  doctrine  showed  the  straits  into  which  they 
had  come  through  the  vigorous  attacks  of  Hamilton 
and  others.  Yet  protests  were  not  wanting  from  the 
more  logical  empiricists  when  the  doctrine  was  first 
put  forth.  It  seemed  to  them  to  be  a  surrender  of 
empiricism  in  the  only  field  where  it  can  be  tested,  in 
order  to  recover  it  again  by  the  aid  of  an  uncertain 
biological  speculation.  But  these  protests,  though 
well  founded  in  logic,  had  little  effect.  The  notion  of 
a  race  experience  was  so  peculiarly  satisfying  and  all- 
explaining  that  it  was  taken  up  without  criticism  and 
even  without  understanding  by  the  great  majority 
of  empiricists.  It  is  a  perfectly  clear  notion  so  long 
as  thought  is  quiescent,  but  it  becomes  very  cloudy 

412 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

when  inspected.  A  brief  reflection  serves  to  show  that 
the  race  is  composed  of  an  indefinite  number  of  indi- 
viduals, and  that  the  experience  of  the  race  can  only 
be  the  experiences  of  these  individuals.  At  once  the 
appearance  of  unity  and  identity  vanishes  into  indefi- 
nite plurality.  If  we  take  a  genealogical  line,  of  which 
A,  B,  C,  and  D  are  successive  members,  it  is  plain 
that  the  line  is  nothing  and  that  the  members  are  all. 
There  is  no  common  experience,  and,  except  in  a 
figurative  sense,  there  is  no  transmitted  experience. 
The  race  has  no  experience,  but  only  the  members 
of  the  race;  and  the  experience  of  each  member  be- 
longs to  him,  and  except  in  a  figurative  sense  can 
never  be  transmitted.  Experience  cannot  pass  from  A 
and  it  cannot  pass  into  B.  We  commonly  hide  these 
difficulties  from  ourselves  by  a  word.  Heredity  is  their 
solution.  The  later  members  of  the  series  inherit  the 
experience  of  the  earlier  members.  But  heredity  is 
another  metaphor.  The  facts  for  which  it  stands  are 
the  problem  itself  rather  than  its  solution.  Even 
though  it  were  not  so,  empiricism  is  not  helped;  for 
heredity  can  only  transmit  what  is  possessed;  it  can 
produce  nothing.  Making  a  will  creates  no  property. 
Thus  the  transformation  is  to  be  worked,  after  all, 
in  the  experience  of  the  individual,  where  analysis 
shows  it  to  be  impossible.  In  other  words,  suppose  an 
individual  to  have  existed  not  for  seventy  years,  but 
for  ages,  through  all  the  time  during  which  the  life 
history  has  been  unfolded.  He  would  be  in  the  most 
favorable  condition  for  learning  all  that  experience 
could  possibly  give  him;  but  this  being,  unless  he  had 
a  rational  nature,  at  least  implicit  from  the  start, 

413 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

could  never  by  any  possibility  develop  into  a  rational 
being.  We  set  aside  the  doctrine  of  a  race  experience 
as  only  a  misleading  metaphor,  and  one  which,  when 
analyzed,  is  seen  in  its  worthlessness. 

But  these  considerations  remain  somewhat  on  the 
surface.  We  must  next  point  out  the  fundamental 
untenability  of  the  doctrine.  Mr.  Spencer  himself 
has  a  very  formidable  metaphysical  outfit.  He  has 
a  fundamental  reality  without  beginning  and  without 
end,  and  he  has  the  indestructibility  of  matter  and 
the  persistence  of  force,  inviolability  of  natural  law, 
and  a  great  many  other  things  of  the  same  kind  which 
it  would  puzzle  even  the  most  determined  apriorist 
himself  to  establish.  Nevertheless  he  himself  regards 
all  this  as  truth  which  is  deeper  even  than  demonstra- 
tion and  deep  as  the  very  nature  of  the  mind  itself. 
Mr.  Mill  especially  had  a  great  many  scruples  about 
this  extensive  doctrine,  and  we  shall  later  see  how 
impossible  it  is  for  the  empiricist  to  reach  any  of  these 
first  principles  on  which  Mr.  Spencer  himself  depends. 
But  in  general,  the  empiricist  has  never  clearly  de- 
cided where  he  begins.  Green  has  shown,  in  his 
"Introduction  to  Hume,"  that  the  sensationalist 
doctrine  rests  on  a  fundamental  ambiguity,  and  that 
all  its  apparent  success  in  making  out  its  case  depends 
on  the  ambiguity  in  the  word  "sensation."  By  sen- 
sation we  may  mean  simply  a  particular  and  unqual- 
ified sensation  in  the  sensibility,  or  we  may  mean  by 
it  an  experience  qualified  by  the  various  categories  of 
the  reason,  qualified,  that  is,  by  reference  to  some- 
thing external  as  a  quality  of  the  same  or  as  its  effect, 
and  qualified  by  various  forms  of  relation  of  unity, 

414 


EMPIRICAL  THEORY  OF  THOUGHT 

plurality,  identity,  and  the  like.  Now,  with  sensation 
in  the  first  sense,  as  simple,  unqualified  impression, 
intelligence  cannot  even  begin,  for  such  impression 
is  simply  flitting,  fleeting,  phantasmagoric,  vanishing 
with  its  date  and  leaving  nothing  behind.  As  Green 
truly  says,  such  sensationalism  must  be  speechless. 
It  can  say  nothing,  for  it  has  nothing  to  say.  A  par- 
ticular sensation  as  occurring  in  time  is  strictly  no- 
thing for  intelligence  until  it  is  fixed  into  a  meaning 
of  which  it  is  the  bearer  or  the  expression.  When  the 
sensation  is  thus  fixed,  the  idea  remains  as  the  intel- 
lectual constant  for  grasping  and  expressing  the  sensa- 
tion, but  until  this  is  done,  there  is  nothing  whatever 
for  intelligence.  Again,  the  sensation  in  this  particu- 
lar vanishes  beyond  recall.  It  was  associated  with 
nothing,  least  of  all  with  anything  recurring  at  a 
later  date.  When,  then,  we  speak  of  associations 
among  sensations,  it  is  never  of  sensations  as  par- 
ticular impressions,  but  of  sensations  as  rationalized 
by  being  fixed  into  abiding  meanings;  that  is,  the 
sensations  with  which  the  empiricist  deals  have  all 
been  transformed  by  intelligence,  and  the  sensations 
between  which  associations  exist  are  just  those  uni- 
versals  of  intelligence  and  not  the  particulars  of 
empirical  theory.  Thus  it  is  clear  that  this  doctrine 
never  begins  at  the  beginning,  and  that  its  supposed 
data  have  all  the  marks  of  the  understanding  upon 
them.  And  this  is  still  more  manifest  in  the  various 
rational  relations  which  the  mind  establishes  among 
them.  If  we  should  abstract  these  sensations  from 
the  various  relations  of  space  and  time  and  causality 
and  identity  and  number,  etc.,  there  would  really  be 

415 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

nothing  articulate  to  them.  But  these  relations, 
again,  are  not  something  which  the  sensations  of 
themselves  establish;  they  are  relations  established 
by  a  rational  principle  which  comprehends  the  sen- 
sations in  the  unity  of  its  own  consciousness.  So 
long  as  we  remain  among  the  plurality  of  sensations 
we  have  neither  unity  nor  plurality  except  for  some 
unity  other  than  the  sensations  themselves.  The  sen- 
sations are  not  supposed  to  know  themselves  or  one 
another.  Each  one,  then,  as  a  particular  unit  of  con- 
sciousness is  shut  up  to  itself,  and  no  proper  rational 
consciousness  can  arise  until  there  is  something  other 
than  these  particular  states  which  is  not  in  one  nor  all 
of  them,  but  which  comprehends  them  all  in  its  own 
unity  and  establishes  an  order  of  rational  relations 
among  them.  Thus  a  proper  rational  consciousness 
is  made  possible,  and  in  no  other  way  can  this  be 
done. 

The  way  in  which  the  traditional  empiricist  reaches 
rational  consciousness  is  by  taking  it  for  granted.  He 
continually  mixes  himself  up  with  the  problem,  and 
mistakes  his  knowledge  of  the  sensations  and  their 
various  relations  for  an  emergence  of  that  knowledge 
among  the  sensations  themselves  as  a  result  of  their 
interaction.  This  is  pure  mythology  so  far  as  the  sen- 
sations are  concerned,  and  shows  an  utter  failure  to 
grasp  the  logical  conditions  of  rational  consciousness 
in  any  case.  In  this  matter  Mr.  Spencer  has  gone  with 
the  multitude  and  made  no  improvement.  As  already 
said,  he  assumes  an  enormous  metaphysical  outfit 
which  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  justify,  and  then  he 
simply  constructs  a  mythology  of  relations  among  the 

416 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

sensational  units  of  the  mental  composition,  then 
back  of  this  another  mythology  respecting  nerve 
vesicles  and  nerve  changes  which  have  insides  to 
them,  all  of  which  is  purely  a  product  of  picture- 
thinking,  without  any  proper  appreciation  whether 
of  scientific  thought  or  of  philosophic  thought. 

Mr.  Spencer's  Skepticism 

When  it  comes  to  the  doctrine  of  knowledge,  em- 
piricism, ever  since  the  time  of  Hume,  has  been  seen 
to  end  in  overwhelming  skepticism.  In  the  hands  of 
Hume  it  led  directly  to  nihilism.  In  the  hands  of  every 
other  speculator  who  gave  any  attention  to  its  bear- 
ing on  knowledge  the  same  result  has  been  more  or 
less  dimly  seen.  There  have  been  at  times  some  rather 
grotesque  failures  to  note  the  bearing  of  the  doctrine 
on  knowledge,  as  appears  in  the  general  union  of  this 
view  with  materialism.  In  one  way  the  doctrine  seems 
to  lead  to  materialism,  that  is,  it  reduces  the  mind  to 
such  passivity  that  there  is  nothing  but  the  body  left. 
And  hence  persons  who  have  thought  along  this  line 
have  generally  tended  to  make  physiology  all;  but  on 
the  other  hand,  it  has  long  been  clear  that  there  is 
really  no  thoroughfare  in  either  direction.  The  world 
of  things  and  laws,  to  which  materialism  so  confidently 
appeals,  turns  out  to  be  something  which  empiri- 
cism makes  impossible  as  an  object  of  knowledge  or 
even  of  faith.  Nihilism  is  the  doom  of  empiricism, 
as  Hume  showed.  And  to  make  matters  worse,  con- 
sistent materialism,  on  the  other  hand,  overthrows 
empiricism.  For  materialism,  so  far  as  it  claims  to  be 
scientific,  must  build  on  the  notion  of  fixed  elements 

417 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

with  fixed  qualities  and  fixed  laws;  and  hence,  if  mat- 
ter should  attain  to  thought,  the  laws  of  thought  must 
be  viewed  as  a  part  of  the  nature  of  things,  as  much 
so  as  the  laws  of  physics  and  chemistry.  The  men- 
tal manifestation,  when  it  comes,  is  as  much  rooted 
in  the  nature  of  matter  as  any  physical  manifestation. 
In  that  case  antecedent  experience  is  as  little  needed 
for  intellectual  insight  as  for  chemical  action.  Both 
alike  are  expressions  of  the  essential  nature  of  matter 
under  the  circumstances,  and  all  that  is  needed  for 
either  is  the  appropriate  physical  condition.  This  is 
so  much  the  case  that,  if  we  suppose  the  physical 
double  of  any  person  produced  directly  from  the  in- 
organic, his  mental  double  would  also  be  produced. 
There  would  be  the  same  insight,  memory,  and  expect- 
ation in  both  cases.  Thus  the  empirical  deductions 
and  explanations  by  reference  to  experience  would 
vanish  altogether.  But  in  crude  thought  this  is  en- 
tirely unsuspected,  and  materialism  and  empiricism 
live  along  together  on  the  best  of  terms,  and  without 
the  slightest  suspicion  of  their  mutual  contradiction. 
Spencer's  long  exposition  derives  what  plausibility 
it  has  from  the  assumption,  implied  or  expressed,  of 
a  fixed  objective  order.  This  order  has  its  uniformi- 
ties of  connection,  and  these  reproduce  themselves  in 
uniformities  of  experience,  and  these  in  turn  become 
uniformities  of  thought,  thus  dogmatically  assuming 
a  system  of  metaphysics  impossible  to  empiricism. 
According  to  Mr.  Mill,  for  all  we  know  two  and  two 
may  make  five  in  some  other  planet,  and  he  holds  that 
all  natural  laws  must  be  limited  in  our  affirmations  to 
a  reasonable  degree  of  extension  to  adjacent  cases,  but 

418 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

Mr.  Spencer  has  absolute  faith  in  natural  laws.  To 
question  them  in  any  way  is  to  deny  the  persistence  of 
force,  and  there  is  no  deeper  iniquity  than  this.  This 
makes  it  all  the  more  necessary  for  us  to  consider  how 
Mr.  Spencer  will  escape  the  nihilism  involved  in  sensa- 
tional doctrine,  and  to  this  we  next  devote  ourselves. 

Underlying  Mr.  Spencer's  system  we  find  a  most 
formidable  metaphysical  apparatus.  We  have  matter 
and  force  and  law  and  an  Unknowable  without  begin- 
ning or  end,  and  various  other  things  which  it  is  some- 
what hard  for  an  empirical  philosophy  to  reach.  In 
addition,  he  also  assumes  throughout  a  fixed  order  of 
the  world  which  is  the  original  source  of  knowledge. 
In  his  doctrine  of  knowledge  the  problem  is  to  repro- 
duce the  world  of  things  in  thought,  and  in  this  way 
he  seems  to  get  a  fixed  foundation.  Absolute  uniform- 
ities of  experience,  he  says,  must  produce  absolute 
uniformities  of  thought.  Again,  reasoning  itself  can 
be  trusted  only  on  the  supposition  that  absolute  uni- 
formities of  thought  correspond  to  absolute  uniform- 
ities of  things.  There  is  a  plausibility  in  this  which  is 
sure  to  captivate  the  uncritical  mind.  Undoubtedly, 
in  our  experience  a  great  many  uniformities  of  thought 
rest  upon  what  we  call  uniformities  in  things,  The 
mountain  range  runs  north  and  south  in  fact,  and  so 
we  think  of  it  as  running  north  and  south.  Unsup- 
ported bodies  fall  to  the  ground  and  never  fall  up,  and 
hence  another  law  seems  to  emerge  in  thought.  Cor- 
responding to  the  fixities  of  things,  then,  we  have  fixi- 
ties of  experience.  And  what  is  this  but  a  generation 
of  uniformities  of  thought  by  uniformities  of  things? 

The  matter,  however,  is  not  so  simple  on  reflection. 

419 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

To  begin  with,  these  generated  uniformities  lie  within 
the  field  of  experience  itself  and  presuppose  its  gen- 
eral possibility.  In  the  next  place,  any  philosophical 
scheme  must  develop  its  theory  of  knowledge  out  of 
its  own  resources.  A  given  system  might  be  such  as  to 
lead  necessarily  to  skepticism  or  denial,  and  no  such 
scheme  should  be  allowed  to  proceed  upon  the  general 
trustworthiness  of  knowledge  in  order  to  establish 
itself.  This  is  what  sensationalism  has  generally  done. 
Since  the  time  of  Hume  it  has  been  clear  to  all  critical 
thinkers  that  a  consistent  sensationalism  can  never 
reach  any  such  world  order  as  Mr.  Spencer  here  as- 
sumes. Mr.  Spencer  simply  picks  up  his  doctrine  of 
knowledge  on  the  field  of  common  sense  and  then 
develops  a  system  of  thinking  which  is  incompatible 
with  the  primal  assumption.  Both  the  idealist  and  the 
epistemologist  raise  objections  to  the  dogmatic  realism 
which  Mr.  Spencer  places  at  the  basis  of  his  system. 
Hence  he  is  called  upon  to  make  strenuous  efforts  to 
ward  off  their  criticism  or  else  he  must  see  his  theory 
collapse.  He  speaks  of  the  "insanities  of  idealism," 
and  further  says  that  "if  idealism  be  true,  evolution 
is  a  dream."  He  must  then  show  that  idealism  is  not 
true  or  see  his  doctrine  vanish  like  a  dream.  Again, 
if  Hume's  conclusions  are  allowed,  his  doctrine  falls 
even  more  hopelessly;  for  on  Hume's  theory  the  only 
reality  is  a  set  of  vanishing  impressions,  vivid  or 
faint,  which  have  no  proper  rational  connection  among 
themselves  and  which  spring  from  and  point  to  no 
reality.  Mr.  Spencer,  then,  must  escape  both  the 
insanities  of  idealism  and  the  nihilism  of  Hume. 
Mr.  Spencer's  proof  of  realism  occupies  nearly 

420 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

two  hundred  pages.  He  argues,  first,  from  priority. 
Realism  is  the  oldest  doctrine  and  is  also  necessary 
to  make  idealism  intelligible.  He  also  appeals  to  the 
rustic  and  the  small  child,  who  are  requested  to  test- 
ify concerning  the  reality  of  objects,  and  they  testify 
accordingly.  From  many  considerations  of  this  kind 
Mr.  Spencer  concludes  that  realism  itself  is  a  presup- 
position of  idealism,  and  that  the  latter  is  to  be  looked 
upon  as  a  somewhat  far-fetched  product  of  abstract 
reasoning,  while  realism  is  based  upon  the  immediate 
deliverance  of  consciousness. 

In  support  of  all  this,  he  especially  appeals  to  what 
he  calls  the  Universal  Postulate,  which  is  that  the  in- 
conceivability of  the  opposite  is  the  test  of  truth.  All 
propositions  are  to  be  accepted  whose  negations  are 
inconceivable.  There  is  some  difficulty  with  this  view, 
in  that  it  is  not  clear  whether  this  inconceivability 
is  a  reason  or  a  mark.  Mr.  Spencer  seems  to  view  it 
as  a  reason,  but  as  such  his  long  theory  makes  it 
worthless.  Simple  opaque  inability  to  conceive  the 
opposite  apart  from  some  direct  rational  insight  is  no 
reason  in  any  case,  and  on  the  associational  theory  it 
is  deprived  of  even  the  semblance  of  reason,  for  on 
that  theory  the  inconceivability  of  the  opposite  rests 
entirely  upon  the  fact  that  the  opposite  has  never 
been  given  in  our  experience;  but  when  we  remember 
the  brevity  in  time  and  the  limitation  in  space  of  our 
experience,  it  seems  in  the  highest  degree  improbable 
that  our  experience  is  universal  enough  to  tell  us  what 
can  or  cannot  be  in  the  nature  of  things.  Accordingly, 
Mr.  Mill,  as  well  as  other  critics,  is  somewhat  stren- 
uous against  this  test  of  truth  as  given  in  the  incon- 

421 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

ceivability  of  the  opposite,  and  the  only  answer  Mr. 
Spencer  could  make  to  such  criticism  would  be  his 
doctrine  of  a  race  experience,  and  that  we  have  before 
seen  to  be  a  verbal  fiction. 

We  have  before  referred  to  the  argument  for  realism 
based  on  the  priority  of  realistic  belief.  Now  that  Mr. 
Spencer  has  obtained  this  test  of  truth,  he  gives  us 
some  extra  reasons.  As  between  two  systems  of 
thought  he  holds  those  conclusions  are  most  probable 
which  use  the  test  least.  The  argument  for  realism  is 
shorter  than  that  for  idealism  and  therefore  it  is  to  be 
accepted,  there  being  less  liability  to  mistake  in  the 
brief  realistic  reflection  than  there  is  in  the  long  and 
fine-drawn  idealistic  reasoning.  Thus  he  illustrates: 
"Let  him  contemplate  an  object,  this  book,  for  in- 
stance. He  finds  that  he  is  conscious  of  the  book  exist- 
ing apart  from  himself  .  .  .  and  he  cannot  conceive 
that  where  he  sees  and  feels  the  book  there  is  nothing. 
Hence,  while  he  continues  looking  at  the  book,  his 
belief  in  it  as  existing  really  has  the  highest  validity 
possible."  This  is  a  specimen  of  the  arguments  by 
which  Mr.  Spencer,  with  the  aid  of  the  rustic  and  the 
savage,  disproves  the  system  of  idealism. 

In  fact,  Mr.  Spencer's  discussion  is  of  the  most 
superficial  and  mistaken  sort.  The  Idealism  which  he 
combats  is  of  a  kind  that  is  practically  nonexistent. 
There  are  three  questions  which  an  idealist  may  ask. 
First,  is  there  anything  other  than  himself?  second, 
is  the  apparent  object  an  illusion?  and  third,  what 
is  the  nature  of  the  world  of  apparent  objects?  Ra- 
tional idealism,  at  least  nowadays,  never  raises  the 
first  two  questions,  but  deals  only  with  the  third. 

422 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

Mr.  Spencer's  arguments  are  directed  against  an 
absolute  or  impossible  idealism  which  is  for  the  most 
part  a  man  of  straw.  There  is  really  no  need  of  asking 
if  there  be  anything  other  than  himself,  as  solipsism  is 
altogether  impossible.  Here  we  may  allow  Mr.  Spen- 
cer's universal  postulate  to  be  valid.  Neither  is  it 
necessary  to  inquire  whether  the  perceived  object  is 
real  or  not,  or  whether  it  be  only  an  illusion  of  the  in- 
dividual percipient.  No  one  whose  opinion  is  worth 
considering  fancies  that  his  objects  belong  to  himself, 
or  that  he  himself  is  all  that  is  meant  by  the  sun,  the 
earth,  and  the  stars.  In  some  sense,  then,  everybody 
admits  the  reality  of  the  objects.  We  are  in  a  world 
of  common  experience  which  is  the  same  for  all  con- 
cerned, and  when  Mr.  Spencer  brings  in  the  rustic  and 
the  savage  to  testify  concerning  the  reality  of  the 
object,  he  simply  shows  himself  ignorant  of  the  real 
question;  for  their  testimony  is  entirely  irrelevant  to 
anything  which  rational  idealism  maintains.  All  their 
testimony  amounts  to  is  that  there  are  objects  in 
experience  which  are  not  illusions  of  the  individual, 
but  which  are  common  to  all,  and  we  find  in  experi- 
ence that  these  objects  can  be  practically  depended 
upon.  This  is  all  that  the  testimony  of  common  sense 
in  general  means.  It  simply  denies  the  fictitious  and 
illusory  character  of  the  world  of  things.  But  this 
testimony,  which  is  perfectly  valid  in  its  own  field,  is 
next  extended  to  affirm  a  system  of  realistic  metaphyics 
which  goes  far  beyond  any  view  of  common  sense,  and 
here  is  where  rational  idealism  parts  company  with  it. 
Such  idealism  claims  that  this  world  of  things,  that  is, 
the  world  of  experience,  shows  itself  upon  reflection 

423 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

to  be  nothing  existing  apart  from  all  intelligence  and 
antithetical  to  consciousness,  but  rather  as  being 
something  which  exists  for  and  through  consciousness 
and  is  meaningless  otherwise.  And  it  will  be  noted 
that  a  good  part  of  Mr.  Spencer's  own  theory  goes  in 
the  same  direction.  The  ordinary  thought  of  common 
sense  is  that  ideas  exist  in  the  mind,  and  things  exist 
out  of  the  mind  in  antithesis  to  consciousness.  And 
they  certainly  do  exist  in  independence  of  our  minds; 
and  common  sense  views  this  independence  of  our 
minds  as  an  independence  of  all  mind;  and  then  we 
have  the  impossible  notion  of  a  mental  subject  and 
of  physical  objects  absolutely  incommensurable  and 
unrelated;  and  thus  the  problem  of  knowledge  is  made 
impossible  at  the  start.  But  the  progress  of  reflection 
throws  increased  doubt  upon  this  idea.  Mr.  Spencer 
himself,  after  having  used  the  rustic  and  the  small 
child  to  prove  the  reality  of  things,  forthwith  proceeds 
to  say  that  the  true  reality  is  by  no  means  what  they 
think;  that  is,  they  are  dismissed,  and  a  speculative 
realism  is  set  up  in  the  place  of  spontaneous  common- 
sense  realism. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  how  far  we  have  gone  in 
the  direction  of  making  the  world  of  experience  phe- 
nomenal, that  is,  subjective.  The  whole  world  of 
sense  qualities  has  been  handed  over  to  phenomenal- 
ity.  Light,  sound,  heat,  etc.,  which  seem  so  mani- 
festly extra-mental,  are  declared  to  exist  only  in  our 
sensibility.  Of  course  the  realist  hastens  to  remark 
that  these  qualities  have  objective  realities  correspond- 
ing to  them,  namely,  vibrations  of  some  sort,  and  with 
this  fact  he  fancies  he  removes  the  paradox  of  his  view 

424 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

for  the  unsophisticated  consciousness.  Heat,  sound, 
light,  are  objective;  of  course,  not  as  common  sense 
supposes,  but  vibrations  are  objective,  and  though  they 
are  never  objects  themselves,  still  they  are  the  reality 
of  the  object.  Fortunately  for  our  peace  of  mind,  the 
rustic  has  been  dismissed,  and  he  is  not  critical  in  any 
case,  but  if  he  had  remained  and  had  been  assisted 
by  counsel,  he  might  have  asked  Mr.  Spencer  if  he 
regarded  this  as  the  realism  to  which  he  testified.  He 
knows  nothing  of  vibrations  in  sense  experience.  He 
knows  qualities  directly  as  properties  of  the  objects. 
For  him  the  thing  is  no  compound  of  qualities  partly 
objective  and  partly  subjective.  Transfigured  realism 
has  an  altogether  different  set  of  objects  from  common- 
sense  realism.  The  things  of  the  latter  are  the  phenom- 
ena of  the  former,  and  the  realities  of  the  former  are 
undreamed  of  by  the  latter.  Both  believe  the  reality 
of  things,  but  the  things  of  one  are  not  those  of  the 
other.  The  things  of  common  sense  are  the  objects 
of  perception,  bodies  in  space  with  various  apparent 
properties.  The  things  of  transfigured  realism  are 
sundry  deductions  of  theory  which  the  senses  do  not 
give.  The  former  realism  believes  in  what  the  senses 
give  and  falls  back  on  the  unsophisticated  conscious- 
ness. The  latter  realism  sets  aside  what  the  senses 
seem  to  give  and  allows  as  real  only  what  the  senses 
do  not  and  cannot  give,  and  yet  it,  too,  upon  occasion 
falls  back  on  the  unsophisticated  consciousness.  All 
that  the  two  realisms  have  in  common  is  the  convic- 
tion that  the  world  of  experience  is  not  arbitrary  and 
groundless  or  a  private  fiction  of  the  individual,  and 
this  conviction  they  share  with  idealism. 

425 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

Nor  do  we  much  mend  the  matter  by  deciding  that 
the  object  is  partly  mental  and  partly  extra-mental,  as 
in  the  distinction  of  primary  and  secondary  qualities, 
for  the  line  between  the  subjective  and  the  objective  is 
hard  to  draw  and  the  distinction  seems  like  an  affront 
to  common  sense.  Supposing  it  made,  however,  it  is 
not  clear  how  the  subjective  qualities  are  to  be  re- 
garded. If  they  are  to  be  excluded  from  reality,  reality 
itself  begins  to  seem  poverty-stricken,  so  much  so  as  to 
be  only  a  bare  skeleton  of  experience  without  life  or 
meaning.  In  that  case  a  knowledge  of  the  real  world 
would  reveal  very  little  worth  knowing  and  all  the 
value  and  significance  of  existence  would  be  in  the 
unreal  subjective  world.  The  subjective  qualities, 
which  are  supposed  to  be  nothing  apart  from  con- 
sciousness, do  nevertheless  appear  as  an  important 
system  of  facts  for  consciousness  and  have  the  utmost 
practical  value.  This  difficulty  can  never  be  escaped 
so  long  as  we  make  the  distinction  of  real  and  unreal 
depend  upon  the  antithesis  of  mental  and  non-mental. 
In  that  case  the  real  must  ever  grow  poorer  and  poorer 
and  less  and  less  worth  knowing,  for  the  solid  things 
of  crude  realism  are  perpetually  vanishing  into  phe- 
nomena. We  need  not  carry  this  matter  into  the  sub- 
jectivity of  space  and  time  to  see  that  by  this  time 
the  realism  of  spontaneous  thought  has  disappeared 
altogether,  and  in  its  place  we  have  a  so-called  trans- 
figured realism  which  grows  more  and  more  mysteri- 
ous the  more  we  reflect  upon  it.  If  the  sense  world  is 
only  an  effect  in  us,  and  if  the  world  of  things  is  not 
to  be  thought  in  terms  of  this  sense  world,  nor  yet  in 
terms  of  idealism  or  personality,  it  certainly  becomes 

426 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

a  very  elusive  thing,  and  the  elusiveness  grows  still 
worse  when  we  try  to  tell  whereabouts  this  real  world 
of  Mr.  Spencer's  exists.  The  world  of  sense  is  phe- 
nomenal. The  Unknowable,  of  course,  is  by  hypothe- 
sis beyond  us,  and  this  real  world  of  transfigured  real- 
ism seems  to  lie  somewhere  between  the  two.  And 
here  we  have  the  difficulties  renewed  which  we  pointed 
out  in  treating  of  the  relation  of  matter  and  force  to 
the  Unknowable.  They  were  declared  at  times  to  be 
effects  in  us,  and  at  times  they  seem  to  be  independent 
of  us,  and  a  kind  of  go-between  between  the  Unknow- 
able and  the  human  world.  This  leaves  them  in  the 
highest  degree  vague  and  uncertain  as  to  their  where- 
abouts. So-called  reality  has  retreated  entirely  into 
mystery.  We  cannot  get  at  it  by  sense  or  apparently 
by  thought,  and  it  further  would  seem  that  this  real- 
ity would  not  be  worth  knowing  if  we  could  by  any 
possibility  reach  it. 

Further,  in  working  out  this  species  of  realism  Mr. 
Spencer  has  been  forced  to  abandon  one  of  his  most 
cherished  positions.  In  speaking  of  freedom,  as  we 
have  before  pointed  out,  Mr.  Spencer  sets  aside  the 
self  as  nothing  but  a  complex  of  states  of  conscious- 
ness, which  states  have  the  ground  of  their  connection 
in  the  brain.  Either,  he  said,  the  Ego  is  in  conscious- 
ness or  it  is  not.  If  it  is  not  in  consciousness,  then  it  is 
not  a  state  of  consciousness;  and  if  it  is  not  in  con- 
sciousness, there  is  no  evidence  of  its  existence.  Thus 
the  self  is  cashiered  and  driven  off  as  utterly  unsub- 
stantial, and  in  another  passage  it  is  declared  that 
various  nervous  plexuses  are  the  objective  bond  of 
mental  states  and  the  ground  of  their  coordination. 

427 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

Unfortunately,  a  self  thus  completely  passive  is  not 
able  to  do  much  in  the  knowing  line,  and  there  is  no 
way  of  saving  the  day  against  the  nihilist  unless  some- 
thing be  done  about  it.  Mere  states  of  consciousness 
are  neither  permanent  nor  changeless  nor  external. 
They  are  simply  subjective,  with  nothing  objective 
in  them.  To  meet  this  difficulty  Mr.  Spencer  has 
recourse  to  the  desperate  measure  of  recalling  the 
cashiered  self  in  order  to  save  the  day.  To  find  some 
proof  of  objective  reality  he  falls  back  upon  our  own 
sense  of  power  and  our  experience  of  resistance  to  our 
own  power,  which  he  views  as  showing  the  reality  of 
the  objective  world.  He  speaks  of  "an  indissoluble 
cohesion  in  thought  between  active  energy  as  it  wells 
up  from  the  depths  of  our  consciousness,  and  the  equiv- 
alent resistance  opposed  to  it;  as  well  as  between 
this  resistance  opposed  to  it  and  an  equivalent  press- 
ure in  the  part  of  the  body  which  resists.  Hence  the 
root-conception  of  existence  beyond  consciousness, 
becomes  that  of  resistance  plus  some  force  which  the 
resistance  measures."  ("Principles  of  Psychology," 
vol.  n,  p.  479.)  The  same  thought  is  continued  as 
follows:  "The  unknown  correlative  of  the  resistance 
offered  by  it,  ever  nascent  in  thought  under  the  form 
of  muscular  strain,  —  the  unknown  correlative  which 
we  think  of  as  defying  our  efforts  to  crush  or  rend 
the  body,  and  therefore  as  that  which  holds  the  body 
together,  is  necessarily  thought  of  as  constituting 
body.  On  remembering  how  difficult  we  find  it  to  con- 
ceive aeriform  matter  as  body  at  all;  how  liquid  mat- 
ter, so  incoherent  that  it  cannot  preserve  its  shape, 
is  recognized  as  body  in  a  qualified  sense;  and  how, 

428 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

where  the  matter  is  solid,  the  notion  of  body  is  so 
intimately  united  with  the  notion  of  that  which  main- 
tains continuity,  that  destruction  of  continuity  is  de- 
struction of  the  body;  we  shall  see  clearly  that  this 
unknown  correlative  of  the  vivid  state  we  call  press- 
ure, symbolized  in  the  known  terms  of  our  own  ef- 
forts, constitutes  what  we  call  material  substance." 
(Page  480.)  Again,  "I  find  that  as  to  these  feelings  of 
touch,  pressure,  and  pain,  when  self -produced,  there  co- 
here those  states  in  my  consciousness  which  were  their 
antecedents;  it  happens  that  when  they  are  not  self- 
produced,  there  cohere  with  them  in  my  consciousness 
the  faint  forms  of  such  antecedents  —  nascent  thoughts 
of  some  energy  akin  to  that  which  I  used  myself." 
(Page  475.)  In  these  and  various  other  passages  which 
might  be  given,  we  see  the  notion  of  the  self  com- 
pletely set  forth.  It  is  no  longer  a  mere  set  of  mental 
states,  but  a  source  of  active  energy  producing  effects 
and  being  resisted,  and  this  sense  of  energy  and  ex- 
perience of  resistance  are  made  the  essential  material 
out  of  which  the  conception  of  the  outer  world  is 
built.  But  this,  however  good  it  may  be  as  doctrine, 
is  very  far  from  the  original  empirical  psychology. 

We  find  further  difficulty  with  Spencer's  doctrine 
of  vivid  and  faint  states  of  consciousness  which  Spen- 
cer adapts  from  Hume.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
Hume  had  two  factors  in  his  system,  impressions  and 
ideas.  The  distinction  between  these  was  that  the 
impressions  were  original  and  vivid,  while  ideas  were 
copies  and  faint.  On  this  view,  of  course,  impressions 
are  the  only  source  of  knowledge,  and  nothing  what- 
ever can  be  looked  upon  as  real  which  is  not  an  im- 

429 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

pression.  Accordingly,  if  any  idea  is  presented  for 
our  consideration,  and  we  would  test  its  value,  we 
inquire  what  is  the  impression  from  which  it  comes, 
and  if  no  impression  can  be  shown  we  can  only  con- 
clude that  the  idea  is  an  illusion.  This  was  really  a 
short  and  easy  method  of  reasoning,  and  one  readily 
sees  what  havoc  it  would  make  with  moral  and  relig- 
ious ideas.  If  there  are  no  corresponding  impressions 
of  sight,  sound,  touch,  odor,  etc.,  then  these  ideas  are 
illusory.  Manifestly,  ideas  of  God  and  Spirit  and  right 
and  wrong,  and  all  the  metaphysical  ideas  of  substance 
and  cause  and  identity,  are,  on  his  view,  pure  illusions. 
Now,  Mr.  Spencer  has  to  escape  this  result,  and  it  is  a 
matter  of  interest  to  see  how  he  does  it. 

A  considerable  part  of  his  discussion  is  in  the  true 
Humian  style,  and  vivid  and  faint  states  of  conscious- 
ness seem  to  be  all  that  are  recognized.  The  vivid 
states  are  identified  with  the  objects  and  the  faint 
states  with  the  mind,  as  in  the  following  passage: 
"Thus  the  totality  of  my  consciousness  is  divisible 
into  a  faint  aggregate  which  I  call  my  mind;  a  special 
part  of  the  vivid  aggregate  cohering  with  this  in  vari- 
ous ways,  which  I  call  my  body;  and  the  rest  of  the 
vivid  aggregate,  which  has  no  such  coherence  with 
the  faint  aggregate.  This  special  part  of  the  vivid 
aggregate,  which  I  call  my  body,  proves  to  be  a  part 
through  which  the  rest  of  the  vivid  aggregate  works 
changes  in  the  faint,  and  through  which  the  faint 
works  certain  changes  in  the  vivid.  And  in  conse- 
quence of  its  intermediate  position,  I  find  myself  now 
regarding  this  body  as  belonging  to  the  vivid  aggre- 
gate, and  now  as  belonging  to  the  same  whole  with 

430 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

the  faint  aggregate,  to  which  it  is  so  intimately  re- 
lated." (Page  472.)  He  represents  himself  also  as  sit- 
ting on  a  bench  by  the  sea  and  having  various  exper- 
iences which  he  describes  in  terms  of  vivid  and  faint 
aggregates.  [In  this  connection  he  says:]  "As  I  rise  I 
lay  hold  of  my  umbrella,  and  make  the  set  of  visual 
states  which  I  know  by  that  name,  move  across  the 
sets  of  visual  states  I  know  as  the  shingle  and  the  sea. 
Unlike  most  changes  in  the  vivid  series,  which,  as  I 
sat  motionless,  proved  to  be  quite  independent  of  the 
faint  series,  and  to  have  antecedents  among  them- 
selves, these  changes  in  the  vivid  series  have  their 
antecedents  in  the  faint  series.  Their  proximate  ante- 
cedents are,  indeed,  the  touches,  pressures  and  mus- 
cular tensions  previously  set  up  in  this  peculiar  por- 
tion of  the  vivid  aggregate;  but  these  are  set  up  by 
members  of  the  faint  aggregate."  (Page  472.) 

In  these  quotations  the  vivid  states  and  faint  states 
seem  to  be  identified  respectively  with  the  objects  and 
the  mind.  The  same  assumption  appears  in  a  note  to 
paragraph  450,  where  he  speaks  of  the  "division  of  all 
manifestations  of  existence  into  two  great  aggregates, 
implying  the  two  existences  distinguished  as  ego  and 
non-ego."  There  is,  however,  some  confusion  arising 
here,  as  both  vivid  and  faint  aggregates  are  declared 
to  be  sets  of  consciousness  and  therefore  both  must  lie 
within  consciousness.  At  the  same  time,  they  are 
both  furnished  with  causality  and  are  said  to  act  upon 
each  other;  but  then  comes  something  more  in  the 
Humian  vein  as  follows:  "Comparison  shows  me, 
then,  that  the  vivid  states  are  original  and  the  faint 
states  derived.  It  is  true  that  these  derivative  states 

431 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

admit  of  being  combined  in  ways  not  wholly  like  the 
ways  in  which  the  original  states  were  combined.  Hav- 
ing had  the  states  yielded  by  trees,  mountains,  rocks, 
cascades,  etc.,  thoughts  of  these  may  be  put  together 
in  shapes  partially  new.  But  if  none  of  the  various 
forms,  colors,  and  distributions  have  been  vividly  pre- 
sented, no  faint  re-combinations  of  them  are  possible. 
...  So  that  the  vivid  originals  and  the  faint  copies 
are  contrasted  as  being,  the  one  absolutely  unalter- 
able while  I  remain  physically  passive,  and  the  other 
readily  alterable  while  I  remain  physically  passive." 
(Pages  456-57.) 

This  doctrine  of  vivid  and  faint  states  of  conscious- 
ness in  Hume's  system  led  directly  to  nihilism.  Accord- 
ing to  Hume,  vivid  states,  which  he  called  impressions, 
are  the  only  material  of  knowledge;  while  faint  states, 
which  he  called  ideas,  are  copies  of  the  vivid  states, 
and  beyond  these  there  is  nothing.  In  that  case  a 
short  and  easy  argument  dispenses  with  every  idea 
that  cannot  be  referred  to  any  impression.  Of  any 
idea  of  spiritual  things,  moral  or  religious,  the  soul 
or  God,  we  have  only  to  ask,  What  is  the  impression 
from  which  these  ideas  are  derived?  Is  it  a  sight,  a 
sound,  a  pressure,  an  odor,  etc.?  Of  course  not.  Then 
it  is  an  illusion,  that  is,  it  is  an  idea  which  is  not  based 
upon  impression.  If  the  mind  had  some  native  insight 
of  its  own,  it  might  possibly  from  these  states,  vivid 
or  faint,  infer  something  beyond  themselves.  But  as 
by  hypothesis  the  mind  has  no  such  insight,  we  can 
only  conclude  that  the  ideas  which  cannot  be  referred 
to  their  original  impressions  are  simply  fictions.  They 
are  the  products  of  what  Hume  called  the  mental 

432 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

propensity  to  feign.  Thus  at  one  stroke  all  reality  is 
reduced  to  sense  impressions,  and  all  non-sensuous 
conceptions,  which  are  not  ideas  or  impressions,  are 
shown  to  be  fictitious  and  baseless.  Of  course  the 
result  is  nihilism  in  speculation,  sensuality  for  morals, 
and  atheism  for  religion.  Hume  himself  did  not  accept 
this  conclusion  in  its  rigor,  but  it  was  the  conclusion 
of  his  philosophy.  Spencer,  however,  having  the  same 
philosophy,  does  not  allow  it  to  reach  this  conclusion. 
But  the  conclusion  is  evaded  solely  by  bringing  in  the 
world  of  causal  realities  outside  of  the  vivid  impres- 
sions. There  is,  as  we  have  seen,  a  certain  element  of 
common  sense  running  along  with  his  own  particular 
philosophy  and  saving  it  from  self-destruction.  How- 
ever, this  only  adds  one  additional  element  of  incon- 
sistency to  his  general  exposition.  If  the  Spencerian 
takes  his  doctrine  of  vivid  states  and  faint  states  of 
consciousness  seriously,  and  does  not  allow  the  reason 
to  be  an  original  part,  he  must  necessarily  come  to 
this  result.  And  this  goes  even  beyond  that  idealism 
which  Spencer  calls  "insane"  and  makes  evolution 
doubly  a  dream. 

There  are  also  some  minor  difficulties  connected 
with  the  doctrine  as  Mr.  Spencer  himself  works  it  out. 
The  vivid  states  and  faint  states  are  identified  respect- 
ively with  the  object  and  the  subject,  and  this  leads 
to  the  extraordinary  result  that  in  that  case  the 
object  in  ordinary  perception  is  mentally  subjective 
rather  than  objective,  in  the  sense  of  being  independ- 
ent of  the  self.  It  is  a  commonplace  of  psychology 
that  cognition  is  largely  recognition.  In  perception  the 
sense  affection  is  to  a  great  extent  the  sign  rather  than 

433 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

the  thing  signified;  or  that  which  is  in  sense  is  very 
different  from  that  which  is  in  thought.  The  thought 
object  is  the  object  as  the  mind  has  built  it  out  of 
various  experiences;  while  the  vivid  impression  is 
simply  the  affection  of  the  appropriate  sense  organ 
at  the  time.  Thus,  in  the  case  of  a  picture,  the  sense 
object  is  merely  the  visual  impression  made  on  the 
retina  or  the  resulting  sensations,  but  that  which  is 
before  the  mind  is  only  to  a  very  slight  extent  this 
vivid  impression.  The  mental  object  is  almost  exclus- 
ively made  up  of  faint  states,  and  hence  is  subjective. 
Hence  the  perceived  object,  that  is,  the  object  as  it 
exists  for  articulate  thought,  is  only  to  a  very  slight 
extent  the  so-called  vivid  impression,  but  is  rather  a 
function  of  various  ideas,  that  is,  of  faint  impressions 
which  are  not  extra-mental  at  all.  If  we  should  follow 
out  this  line  of  reflection,  it  would  turn  out  that  the 
actual  object  in  perception  is  in  the  Spencerian  scheme 
subjective,  being,  as  just  said,  a  function  of  faint  im- 
pressions. Just  how  Mr.  Spencer  would  escape  this 
conclusion  it  is  not  easy  to  say.  Possibly  he  might 
hold  that  a  vivid  impression  is  possible  in  connection 
with  faint  impressions  in  the  case  of  an  object,  and 
that  the  really  objective  is  not  the  object  as  we  per- 
ceive it,  but  is  the  complex  of  actual  and  possible 
vivid  impressions.  But  if  we  should  allow  this,  it 
would  apply  only  to  sense  objects  and  not  at  all  to  that 
world  of  thought  reality  which  belongs  to  the  unpic- 
turable  ideas  of  the  understanding  and  is  no  vivid 
impression  and  never  can  be  one.  The  vivid  impres- 
sions, in  any  case,  would  belong  only  to  sense  and  to 
the  sensuously  presentable  objects  of  the  imagination; 

434 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

whereas  the  great  part  of  our  thought  of  objects  is 
drawn  from  the  world  of  power,  depending  on  ideas 
of  cause,  substance,  unity,  identity,  etc.;  and  all  of 
these  in  their  unpicturable  character  lie  beyond  the 
range  of  impressions  of  any  sort.  Thus  the  failure  of 
this  view  becomes  manifest  again,  and  when  to  this 
we  add  the  generally  recognized  subjectivity  of  all  the 
sense  qualities,  the  whole  world  of  vivid  impressions 
is  carried  bodily  over  into  the  subject  as  an  affection 
of  the  same,  and  by  this  time  the  collapse  is  complete. 
Finally,  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  if  we  should 
allow  Mr.  Spencer's  whole  system  of  metaphysics, 
including  the  Unknowable  and  eternal  force  and  inde- 
structible matter,  etc.,  he  would  still  be  as  far  as  ever 
from  making  out  his  empirical  doctrine  of  knowledge. 
Mr.  Spencer  has  assumed  the  whole  system  of  meta- 
physical ideas  in  his  fundamental  platform,  and  then 
he  has  the  problem,  how  with  these,  as  objective  facts, 
to  secure  their  objective  recognition.  And  here  again 
there  is  no  thoroughfare.  It  seems,  indeed,  plausible 
to  speak  of  the  uniformities  of  things  as  producing 
uniformities  of  thought,  and  the  imagination  finds 
it  easy  to  form  some  fancy  that  the  existing  reality 
should  gradually  come  to  reproduce  itself  in  subject- 
ive conceptions;  but  when  we  take  the  matter  with 
any  precision  we  find  this  doctrine  vanishing  also  into 
hopeless  unclearness.  Given  such  a  real  world,  we 
should  first  have  to  inquire  how  any  subjective  world 
of  any  sort  should  emerge.  Supposing  matter  and  mo- 
tion as  our  original  data,  how  do  they  ever  become 
that  which  is  neither  matter  nor  motion,  namely, 
conscious  feeling  of  any  kind,  or  vivid  impressions,  to 

435 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

use  Mr.  Spencer's  phrase?  Here  also  there  is  no  thor- 
oughfare. We  can  in  no  way  represent  these  subject- 
ive impressions  in  terms  of  matter  and  motion  so  as 
to  identify  them  with  them.  Mr.  Spencer  would,  of 
course,  fall  back  on  his  doctrine  of  the  double-faced 
nature  of  the  fundamental  reality  or  of  the  nervous 
changes;  but  here  again  we  have  mainly  a  phrase 
which  defies  all  construction  in  thought,  and  it  is 
equally  unserviceable  in  the  solution  of  our  problem. 
For  at  the  very  utmost,  all  that  is  possible  on  this  line 
would  be  a  set  of  coexistent  or  sequent  impressions  no 
matter  where,  and  we  should  then  have  the  problem, 
how  from  such  impressions  to  build  up  a  knowledge 
of  them  and  to  build  up  an  articulate  system  of  know- 
ledge of  any  kind.    We  might  conceivably  have  im- 
pressions coexistent  or  sequent  for  an  observer,  but 
the  problem  is  to  get  them  to  be  coexistent  and  se- 
quent for  themselves.    The  speculator,   looking  on 
from  the  outside  and  treating  these  coexistent  and 
sequent  states  under  the  categories  of  coexistence  and 
sequence  and  unity  and  identity,  easily  comes  to  mis- 
take the  coexistence,  etc.,  which  he  attributes  to  the 
sensations,  for  a  perception  of  these  relations  among 
themselves  and  by  themselves.     When  this  begging 
of  the  question  is  guarded  against,  we  soon  see  again 
that  there  is  no  thoroughfare  here.   We  have  a  coex- 
istence of  conscious  impressions,  but  no  knowledge 
of  coexistence.   In  order  to  this,  there  must  be  some- 
thing beyond   the  impressions    themselves.     They 
must  be  united  in  or  for  or  by  some  principle  which 
cannot  be  identified  with  any  of  the  impressions  them- 
selves, but  which  comprehends  the  several  impres- 

436 


MR.  SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

sions  in  the  unity  of  its  consciousness,  and  by  discrim- 
inating and  comparing  them  within  this  consciousness 
gives  to  them  the  relations  of  coexistence,  sequence, 
etc.  But  in  order  to  this,  this  something,  which  we 
may  as  well  call  the  self,  must  have  an  essentially 
rational  nature.  The  impressions  as  such  would  lie 
dead  and  reveal  nothing.  It  is  only  as  they  are  affec- 
tions of  a  rational  mind  that  any  need  arises  for  organ- 
izing. Left  to  themselves,  they  might  coexist  or  follow 
one  another  in  space  and  time  for  an  observer,  but 
they  would  organize  themselves  as  little  as  a  mass  of 
type,  whirled  continually  for  an  indefinite  time,  would 
organize  themselves  into  words  and  develop  into 
meanings  and  rational  treatises.  There  is  simply 
nothing  in  the  impressions,  considered  in  themselves, 
that  contains  meaning  in  abstraction  from  the  ra- 
tional nature.  Thus  we  see  that  this  system  must  be 
content  to  see  all  its  conclusions  disappear,  or  else  to 
fall  back  on  the  affirmation  of  a  rational  nature  which 
is  the  real  source  and  ground  of  knowledge. 

Thus,  it  is  plain  that  Mr.  Spencer  does  not  succeed 
any  better  in  developing  a  doctrine  of  knowledge 
than  the  old-fashioned  empiricism  of  the  earlier  school. 
He  gives  his  view  something  of  the  prestige  of  science 
by  an  abundant  use  of  scientific  terminology  and  illus- 
tration, but  when  the  matter  is  taken  with  precision 
he  gets  on  no  better  than  the  earlier  prophets  and 
apostles  of  the  school.  But  given  a  rational  nature, 
then  the  principles  of  association  to  which  the  em- 
piricists refer  have  a  real  but  subordinate  value.  We 
do  learn  many  things  from  experience,  and  uniformi- 
ties of  experience  do  result  in  certain  uniformities  of 

437 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

thought,  but  this  is  due  altogether  to  the  fact  that  it 
is  the  experience  of  a  rational  being  which  is  already 
determined  by  a  rational  nature. 

When  Hume  proclaims  the  reduction  of  the  self  to 
a  flux  of  impressions  he  says:  "For  my  part,  when  I 
enter  most  intimately  into  what  I  call  myself y  I  al- 
ways stumble  on  some  particular  perception  or  other, 
of  heat  or  cold,  light  or  shade,  love  or  hatred,  pain 
or  pleasure.  I  never  can  catch  myself  at  any  time 
without  a  perception,  and  never  can  observe  anything 
but  the  perception.  ...  If  any  one,  upon  serious 
and  unprejudiced  reflection,  thinks  he  has  a  different 
idea  of  himself,  I  must  confess  I  can  reason  no  longer 
with  him.  All  I  can  allow  him  is  that  he  may  be  in  the 
right  as  well  as  I,  and  that  we  are  essentially  different 
in  this  particular.  He  may,  perhaps,  perceive  some- 
thing simple  and  continued,  which  he  calls  himself; 
though  I  am  certain  there  is  no  such  principle  in  me."1 
In  this  passage  the  self  which  Hume  is  denying  con- 
tinually appears  in  the  personal  pronouns  employed. 
If  we  should  erase  these  and  substitute  for  them  the 
vanishing  impressions  which  the  doctrine  implies,  the 
whole  passage  would  disappear  in  complete  and  per- 
fect nonsense.  That  is,  Hume  had  to  invoke  the  self  to 
be  present  at  its  own  rejection  and  banishment.  Mr. 
Spencer's  work  illustrates  the  same  thing.  The  self 
which  is  to  be  built  up  is  implicitly  present  from  the 
start  and  the  operation  succeeds  only  because  of  this 
fact.  In  Mr.  Spencer's  various  descriptions  of  the 
process,  the  self  appears,  as  in  the  passage  quoted  from 
Hume,  in  the  pronouns  and  substantive  terms  denot- 
1  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  part  iv,  section  vi. 
438 


MR.   SPENCER'S  SKEPTICISM 

ing  the  mind  employed.  This  doctrine  never  reaches 
the  bottom,  or  rather  never  reaches  the  beginning. 
It  presupposes  the  very  things  it  sets  out  to  deduce  or 
evolve.  But  after  we  have  seen  the  essential  failure 
and  nothingness  of  the  system,  it  is  then  possible  to 
find  a  subordinate  value  in  it.  As  an  observation  of 
the  principle  of  association  and  its  effects,  or  as  a 
description  of  mental  growth  from  the  outside,  the 
empirical  theory  is  by  no  means  without  interest  and 
value.  Accordingly,  we  find  in  the  writings  of  this 
school  a  great  deal  that  is  useful,  only  pointing  out 
that  the  fundamental  philosophy  is  untenable  from 
the  start  and  is  completely  denied  on  every  page. 

Of  Mr.  Spencer's  system  in  general,  it  must  be  said 
that  it  can  only  be  looked  upon  as  a  compound  of  bad 
science,  bad  logic,  and  bad  metaphysics.  In  his ' '  Auto- 
biography," Mr.  Spencer  rather  felicitates  himself 
now  and  then  on  not  having  studied  much  in  the  his- 
tory of  philosophy.  He  sets  Kant  aside  very  peremp- 
torily, and  gives  the  impression  that  the  philosophers 
have  largely  erred  and  strayed  from  the  way  like  lost 
sheep,  while  he  himself  seems  to  have  light  enough 
within  for  his  own  purposes.  But  the  student  of  philo- 
sophy, in  reading  Spencer,  can  only  say  that  if  the 
good  man  had  read  more  widely  and  more  carefully  in 
philosophy,  he  would  have  saved  himself  from  many 
a  naive  blunder  and  overweening  dogmatism. 

In  a  youthful  book  which  I  published  many  years 

ago,1  when  there  was  not  much  fear  of  the  proprieties 

before  my  eyes,  I  ventured  to  say  of  Mr.  Spencer  that 

he  had  painted  a  big  picture  with  a  big  brush,  and  his 

1  The  Philosophy  of  Herbert  Spencer,  New  York,  1874. 

439 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPENCER 

disciples,  who  had  found  it  easier  to  wonder  than  to 
understand,  had  concluded  that  he  must  be  a  great 
painter.  For  substance  of  doctrine,  I  still  agree  with 
this  view.  We  have  a  system  of  great  showy  general- 
izations, but  vague  and  baseless  often,  and  at  other 
times  barren  and  leading  to  nothing.  Mr.  Spencer  had 
the  rather  pathetic  experience  of  seeing  his  system 
grow  obsolete  during  his  own  life.  It  fell  in  with  the 
naturalistic  thought  of  his  time,  and  for  a  while  was 
the  official  philosophy  of  the  naturalistic  movement. 
But  when  criticism  awoke  and  the  philosophy  was 
more  carefully  examined,  it  was  seen  in  its  true  char- 
acter and  remanded  to  the  fellowship  of  obsolete 
systems  which  for  a  time  made  a  show,  but  passed 
away  and  left  little  trace  or  sign. 


THE   END 


(Slfre 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   S    .   A 


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